Past Sins
by lordtrayus
Summary: Sam and Dean may be reunited but that doesnt mean theyre getting on. Their recent encounter with a spectre caused Dean to tell Sam exactly how little he thought of him, and Sam's decision not to look for Dean in Purgatory, are playing havoc with the brother's bond. But someone wants Dean dead, so unless the boys sort their issues this could very well be the boys last hunt...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: To my ever lasting regret, I do not own Supernatural (otherwise it would come back before the freaking 15th of October!)**

Past Sins

The drive away from Kearney, Missouri was silent. A recent case with a spectre had further disturbed their unity, and now neither Winchester was speaking to each other.

Dean, recently returned from a year in Purgatory, where Dick Roman had sucked him into when he had exploded in their battle the year before, was mad at Sam for all sorts of reasons. He had returned from Purgatory to find that Sam had not even looked for him, stopped hunting all together and had been living some cushy apple pie life with some vet woman he met, all while he had been fighting for his life in Purgatory. And as a result, under the influence of the spectre, it had all came out. In the final confrontation, Dean, filled with demonic rage, had basically blasted Sam for not looking for him, for not looking for Kevin, for his role in the Apocalypse, for being soulless and anything else he thought of in which he felt that Sam had failed him. And when Dean had tried to talk to Sam, to apologise, Sam had basically told him to save it, saying he knew Dean had meant every world.

Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel of his beloved Impala. He'd been trying to apologise to the jerk, and Sam had claimed Dean had meant every word. He hadn't, not really. He didn't care what Sam said, the spectre had made him say it.

Who was he kidding, the spectre may have helped but Dean had said every single word, and he couldn't very well blame that on the spectre. He scowled out at the darkness. Yeah, he was angry at Sam. If their positions had been reversed, he would have stopped at nothing to try and find Sam, wherever he might have been. Yet Sam didn't even bother to look. On some level, he did get it. Sam, for the first time since he had dragged him from Stanford all those years ago, had been totally alone. No Bobby, no Ellen, no Rufus and above all no Dean. Cas was with Dean, Meg was captured and their other friends, Garth, Missouri, Marion and Jody, frankly didn't know enough to have helped Sam with what he needed. Sam had been completely abandoned, and without any leads, he had fallen apart. Dean knew his brother, even better than he knew himself. His baby brother, despite all his protestations that he was a big boy and all grown up, was just as dependent on Dean as Dean was on him. And with Dean gone and no other viable support, Sam had crumbled. He had removed himself from hunting and had followed one of Dean's orders: should anything happen to him, he should get the hell out and get a nice life.

The problem was Dean hadn't actually expected him to follow the damn order. Since when did Sam do what he told him? Usually it was a struggle to get Sam to do something he also knew to be right when Dean told him, the stubborn git.

So yeah, he was mad at Sam. He had every right to be. His brother, who he'd died for on numerous occasions, hadn't bothered to look for him, to look for his big brother, the only family he had left. He'd also abandoned all of their responsibilities all for some girl.

But as Dean chanced a glance at his brother out of the corner of his eye, he did feel kind of bad. Yeah he had every right to be mad at Sam for a lot of things. But blaming him for the soulless crap, that had been a low and also untrue blow, if anyone's fault, that was Cas'. And while he was incredibly loathe to admit, Sam also had reason to be mad at him. Grunting to himself, gnashing his teeth, Dean went back to the driving, his thoughts full of resentment.

But he couldn't get that last fight out of his head, the one just before they'd gotten into the car. Where Sam had told him to basically drop his crap, move on from it, or he would leave Dean. And if that happened, Dean knew Sam wouldn't come back. Dean sighed. He may be mad at Sam, really mad at him, but he didn't want him to leave. He knew from long experience that that sucked. And he really did want his brother with him. In fact, he hadn't been concerned about escaping Purgatory and getting home. He'd been concerned about getting back to Sam.

He would talk to him when they got the motel, when they had both hopefully calmed down a little. So, he continued with his driving silently as Sam, his head leaned against the window and not looking at his brother, also stewed in his own juices.

Sam was less than happy with his brother. Yeah, he admitted it. He hadn't looked for Dean. His brother had vanished, had gone completely from the world after their fight with Roman, and Sam would happily put his hand in the air and admit that he hadn't handled it well. He never did cope well when Dean was taken from him. Dean didn't do well either, but Sam always went completely off the deep end and he had this time too. Dean was completely gone from the world, and Sam had had no one. And without any clues, fearing his brother dead and falling to pieces, Sam had abandoned the job, stopped hunting and had followed Dean's orders, he had tried to live a normal life.

He had known it was a mistake. But as time went on, as he faced day after day without his big brother, Sam had been struggling to see the point in going on anymore. His brother was gone, and he had no idea of how to get him back. So he had simply given up. And it was then that he had found Amelia, just as he was about to pack it all in and hope that he found Dean in heaven. But she had resurrected him, she and Riot the dog, and had kept Sam from losing the last of his mind, the last of his sanity, and had kept him from getting better acquainted with his gun. And then, just as he had been getting used to his life with her, she had revealed that her husband was actually alive. The news had knocked him for six, if not for twelve. Amelia and Riot, the nice little apple pie life, it had become a refuge from his pain, from the persistent ache that reminded him his big brother wasn't there anymore. So, taking off, he had returned to Rufus' cabin to find Dean waiting for him.

And ever since then, rather than the happy reunion they had both desired, Dean had been kicking at Sam, and Sam, used to playing Dean's punching bag after all these years, had let him. Sam already felt bad. He had screwed up, again, let Dean down, again. He'd abandoned hunting and his brother, and the guilt, the endless nausea he felt at himself for abandoning Dean when he needed him most, threatened to overwhelm him day in and day out. Dean, furious and rightly hurt (Sam wasn't stupid, he knew he'd screwed up and knew his brother had every right to be pissed with him) had punished him endlessly, and this case had finally clinched it.

Dean didn't know anything. He didn't know that Sam had been lost, broken and confused without his brother. He hadn't known that Sam seriously had considered suicide, the only thing staying his hand was the thought that Dean might not actually be in heaven waiting for him. He also didn't know that it was Amelia and Riot who had basically kept him from going for a long drive off a short cliff. In fact, the night he had hit Riot, he'd had half a mind to do it, end it all, but his concern for the dog (he'd always had a soft spot for dogs) had kept him from doing it, and then, with the dog to look after, he had barely held on until Dean had returned to him.

And then Sam, frantic with worry about his jackass brother who had vanished to help 'a friend', had pursued him to lend him a hand to find out that his friend was secretly a bloody vampire. Dean had seen that Sam was pissed, and he had to believe that somewhere Dean knew why he was so angry.

He had to admit, part of it was jealousy. Benny had done what Sam hadn't, had helped Dean escape Purgatory, and that pissed him off. He'd failed Dean, and Benny hadn't, and unfair though it was, he resented Benny for it. But everything about the blasted bloodsucker just looked like an accident waiting to happen.

The year before, Dean had killed a kitsune by the name of Amy, the first girl Sam had ever kissed. Sam had promised to let her live, and had asked Dean to trust him and leave her alone. Dean hadn't, and had killed her, arguing that because Sam was emotionally close to her, his judgement was clouded. He argued that she was a monster and that she had killed people, and hence had to die. And to make matters worse, when he had finally found out about it, he had found out from a bloody Leviathan pretending to be Dean. Dean had gone behind his back, killed someone Sam cared about, and had spat on the so called trust he placed in his little brother. And now, a year later, here was Dean, trusting a vampire, a monster, and Sam wasn't allowed to be a little pissy that Dean lied to him about it, that he hadn't put him down like the monster he was (a lesson he preached). Once again his brother's delightful double standards had bit him in the ass. It was alright for Dean to trust a monster, and to let him live, but not for Sam to do it.

And then their most recent case had been a particular doozy. Dean had become possessed by a spectre, who had heightened all of Dean's resentments towards Sam and had allowed them all to come out. Sam knew he deserved some of them, like the Ruby thing. He admitted that, he'd made mistakes, mistakes that were huger than everyone else's, but he had made mistakes, who hadn't? But once again, after all that time Sam had spent naively believing his brother had forgiven him for his mistakes, Dean had thrown them all right back at him. Yeah he'd screwed up recently, not searching for him or helping Kevin, but Dean of course was only interested with what he could see, and that was that Sam had let him down again. But he'd thought that with everything they had gone through last year, with the Leviathans, Becky, the Gorgon and the Apocalypse remake, that they had finally moved on from all that. Sam scoffed slightly to himself. Why on earth he had thought that he had no idea. He had screwed up, and Dean would never let it go, not until his dying day, and even then he probably still wouldn't give it a rest. He scowled to himself as he glared at the passing traffic. And Dean had thrown things at him that weren't his fault, he hadn't been able to control the soulless stuff, yet Dean still held that against him too. Maybe he should just face facts, his brother was never going to fully trust him again, or let go of the past. Dean was never going to let it go, and would remind Sam of each and every time he had screwed up until they both died for good.

Sam grumped to himself bitterly. Even when he did everything Dean wanted, he still didn't make him happy. He thought, last year after Dean had nearly killed him in Dillimore, that they would be able to go back to what they once were, and that he and Dean would be proper brothers again. And there had been times when Sam had simply basked in the praise Dean had lavished on him (saving his life a couple of times in the process). But it looked like that was just a fluke, as Sam was back to screwing up and Dean was back to finding fault with everything Sam did. And he deserved some of it, he knew he did.

But so did Dean. Contrary to popular belief, the sun did not shine out of Dean's ass, and he had made just as many mistakes as he had. And what was more, with the less pleasant aspects of his personality, Dean came across as an unappeasable hypocrite with impossibly high standards that everyone struggled to meet but him. Sam had foolishly thought that that had ended with everything they had been through in the year before, but clearly that wasn't the case. Dean's ridiculously high standards had just been on hiatus, and had now come back full force.

But, Sam was only human, and while he knew he had deserved a lot of what Dean had thrown at him, even if he had foolishly thought his brother had finally forgiven him for half the stuff he had brought up, he couldn't deny that he had enjoyed putting Dean in his place. He was so sick of Dean's sanctimonious, judgemental, hypocritical attitude. Dean wasn't perfect, despite what he himself seemed to believe at times, and he did make mistakes, not that he ever admitted them. So, finally pushed too far by Dean thinking Sam always did wrong and he always did right, sick of Dean never trusting or forgiving Sam for things he'd done when Sam always forgave him, he'd finally had enough. He'd told Dean to drop his crap (just as Dean had, rather unfairly, to him the year before when Sam was still mad at him for killing Amy) or he would leave. And it had finally been enough to shock Dean into silence, and he had feebly agreed to drop his problems and admit his mistakes. Sam didn't think it would last long, but he had promised so he could live in hope that his brother would keep his promise.

Because despite how mad Sam would get at Dean, despite how much Dean might not want to, he usually tried to keep his promises to Sam.

And he really hoped Dean would stow his crap. He had been partly serious when he had given his brother his ultimatum: stop blaming me for everything crappy in your life, admit you've screwed up just as often, and move on, or I'll leave. But he also knew it was a bluff too.

In spite of everything, of how much he and Dean had been fighting since he had returned, he was still delighted his brother came back. Yeah his feelings were hidden beneath his irritation with his brother, but the day he'd seen his big brother standing in Rufus' cabin waiting for him was still one of the happiest of his life (at least until Dean started ragging on him). He had just got his brother back, he didn't want to lose him again, or leave him. He was glad his brother was back, but that didn't mean he couldn't be mad at him. And besides, if he left, they might never be brothers again, and he didn't want that to happen one bit.

He wanted his awesome big brother back.

But he wasn't going to let it go either.

"There's a town up ahead." He said softly, and Dean looked at him.

"Did you see a sign?" he asked curtly, his voice betraying nothing.

"No, I stayed here one night last year." Sam replied, and to his credit, Dean said nothing as he prepared to pull over.

Dean looked at his still angry little brother, and it occurred to him just how much he didn't want Sam to leave. He may be mad at him, but he still wanted his awesome little brother to stay with him. True he hadn't been an awesome little brother recently, but there were times Dean hadn't been a good brother to Sam either, and Sam had never given up on him. However he stayed quiet as he finally saw the sign and drove into the opening that would take them to the town.

XX

"You truly wish this?" he asked in his shaky croaky voice, and his customer, his dark eyes narrowed in intense anger, nodded coldly.

"I want revenge. Wouldn't you?" he asked, his voice high but strong, and the other man nodded, his clothes rustling the glass vials he carried about his person as he did so.

"Of course I would, if I was affected with such problems as sentimentality, but I am not. I will require payment, as what you wish is not easy to achieve. You are sure you wish this?" the older man asked once again, and the younger one of the two glared at him angrily.

"I want to get back at him, he ruined my life. I've got it on good authority that he's back, and now I'm going to make good on the promise I made to him. I'm going to kill him!" he vowed angrily, his voice high and screeching, his eyes going an eerie blue.

"As you will it. My payment?" he asked, and the younger occupant of the dusty old shop withdrew an item floating in a jar, and the old man smiled, chuckling in delight.

"Yes, fresh too! I've been running low. However, while it is a good payment, I'll need slightly more, after all, this is no easy task what you ask me to do remember." He chided and the younger man rolled his eyes irritably.

"Fine! Here, just give me what I want!" he snapped bitterly, and this time revealed a shining yellow liquid, making the other's eyes widen in shock.

"This is indeed rare. Have you ever considered a career in the procurement business?" he asked, storing the yellow liquid, though all he got was a glare from his customer.

"Of course not, I apologise. You might consider it though. Very well, we have a deal. Sign the contract." He said and the other scowled as he did so, and the older man clapped his hands.

"Excellent, now let's get to work!" he boomed, heading into the back of his dusty shop.

His customer was close at hand, eager to see the process and with a flick, the flame under his cauldron came to life. The proprietor smirked eagerly as he began the mixture, pouring crystalline water into the cauldron. He then threw in what looked like several shards of gold, and then small jewels of deepest jade. A plume of smoke emitted from the cauldron as the owner took a long thin silvery hair from another vial and threw it into the cauldron. He then seized his customer, slicing his hand with a knife and dropping three drops of blood into the pot. He then dusted in some silver powder, the concoction bubbling and roiling, a shining gold colour as it raged within its vessel. Several herbs were then thrown in, flaming figures dancing across the mixture as it took them in, smoke blasting into the air as he did so. A single pearl was then thrown into the pot, giving the mixture a shining, shimmering sheen as it bubbled and brewed. The owner, cackling madly, then threw a long bone into the pot, making it give off an acrid smell as the mixture became a deep blue colour. The owner then headed to his fridge and removed a fresh heart, which he then threw into the mixture, making it transform into a deep purple shade. Finally, he added a small vial of blood before finally spinning around in delight and pulling a human embryo from the shelf and dumping it into the pot. The potion then blasted into action, creating a mushroom cloud of silvery gas. The man then turned to his customer, and hacked down on his proffered finger. As his customer screamed in pain, he threw the finger into the cauldron, and it was all but done. He sliced his own hand, dropping several drops into the cauldron, and at long last it finally turned into its true mother of pearl colour, and with a final flourish, he added a sprig of chamomile and a slice of cucumber, both of which melted into nothing. And with that it was done.

Before him stood a cauldron of shimmering potion, a mother of pearl colour with a turquoise sheen over it and small silver swirls of steam rising from it. The owner, ignoring the feeble cries of his customer, then seized a clear vial and stuck his hand into the cauldron and filled the vial, removing it and turning to his pained but now eagerly smiling customer.

"It is done." The owner said gloatingly, and eagerly the younger man snatched it from him, and drained it in one gulp.

He then screamed in pain, dropping to the floor, writhing and retching as he struggled to control his pain. He seized his legs and his chest, his arms and shoulders as he thrashed around on the floor, screaming as he did so, gasping for air and relief, the blood from his stump of a finger staining his clothes and the floor. His mouth then opened wide, as if to relieve the pain and he gave a keen howl as he battled the pain, his partner looking on impassively as the process continued.

And after a few minutes, when the customer had all but shouted himself hoarse and cried himself out with pain, he finally came to a stop, the process done.

"It is complete. How do you feel?" the owner asked, passing his customer a handkerchief for his stump of a middle left finger.

"Excellent. You did it." He said eagerly, his voice now much deeper and the owner bowed.

"Then good hunting." He said as his customer turn and left the shop, vengeance in mind.

XX

Seraphim signed off on another death. Ever since the mess Raphael made with his attempts to engineer a new Apocalypse, the Perpurigo had been working none stop, which meant for the last year they had been doing nothing but trying to repair the damage done by both Raphael and the Leviathans. But now, after a long year they were finally closing in on their aim, to undo all the damage done by the cheap rerun and the remake of the Apocalypse that Raphael and the Leviathans had brought about. They had to hide the damage, undo history and never let anyone know that they had all but failed in their responsibilities, they had to hide from the mindless masses what had nearly happened. And that also meant hunting down everyone who was involved in anything but a passing capacity.

And now they were nearly done.

The door opened, revealing the beautiful oracle that the Perpurigo relied on, and Seraphim's heart sank, especially when she fell to her knees in remorse.

"Lord Seraphim, I have erred." She admitted in disgust, and Seraphim, one of the leaders of the entire sect, raised a chiselled eyebrow curiously.

"That isn't like you oracle, what have you done?" he asked, and she hissed between her teeth, feeling the gaze of her superior as he took in the scantily clad oracle.

"I failed to see something of great importance. Dean Winchester has returned to the world, and had once more reunited with his brother." She admitted, and Seraphim got to his feet, his armour clanking as the tall and upright angel looked down upon her, his eyes cold, hard and merciless.

"Fear not oracle, while your lateness is noted, it isn't catastrophic." Came a voice from the doorway, and Seraphim looked up to see his opposites, the leaders of the Reaper and Demon faction of the Perpurigo faction, entering the room.

Lexii, the leader of the Reapers, was clad in deep red and black robes, with two large scythes mounted on her back and having two small scythes akin to claws on either side of her middle finger. Her eyes were like ice, and her blonde hair was streaked with black, akin to her soul. Beside her was Ember, the leader of the Demon faction. Clad in a tight black jumpsuit, she also had an armoured waistcoat on, along with deadly high heeled boots. Her eyes were a sickly yellow colour, her lips and nails a deep blood red, her hair the same colour and styled into a star like bun and her eye shadow a shimmering lilac. And the last of the leaders, Seraphim himself, a tall and stout man clad in golden armour embossed with shining sapphires. His face was cold, hard and stern, his long hair blond in colour and flowing down his back. Together they led the Perpurigo, the group entrusted with the most sacred tasks, the tasks they had nearly failed several times before.

And they would not fail again.

"Catastrophic no, but a nuisance surely Ember?" Seraphim asked and the demon smiled sinisterly.

"Quite the opposite comrade. Now we can finish things, once and for all. Niandra, can you locate the Winchesters?" she asked and the girl nodded.

"I can my lady." She promised and Ember smiled, as Lexii smirked in cold anticipation.

"Excellent. We can finally finish clearing up the mess. General Delphus!" she boomed, and a second later, the leader of their military, Delphus, arrived.

The deadly leader of their army, he was clad in brown robes and further protected by silver armour, etched with deep red markings. A big and strong looking man, two blood stained axes hung from his belt. His bald head was pale, and his eyes had long since been scooped out, leaving only a blood stain behind.

"My lords." He said respectfully, bowing.

"General, the Winchesters have returned. As soon as Niandra has them, send someone to dispose of them." Ember ordered and he bowed graciously, brimming with anticipation.

"As you desire my lady." He replied and Seraphim smiled.

It was finally time to end this.

And the end would begin with the Winchesters.

XX

The small town of Cameron was where the boys had stopped for the night. Upon arriving, without a word Dean had shut off the car, picked up his bag and had entered the motel without a backward glance. Sam, glaring at his idiot brother's back, followed a second later, slamming the door of the car to get at Dean.

The owner waved them through to their room, and Dean entered the room, throwing his bag down on the bed closest to the door. Sam threw his down on the bed next to his, neither of them saying a word as Sam went into the toilet. And as soon as the door shut, Dean sagged down to the bed.

They had to talk, otherwise they would wind up killing each other or worse. And quite frankly, he had killed Sam enough for one lifetime. So when Sam came out of the toilet, he looked up at Sam.

"Sam..." he began hesitantly, and Sam stiffened, not looking at his brother.

"What?" he asked sullenly, and Dean sighed in exhaustion, he forgot how tiring being mad at each other could be when he was in Purgatory.

"Look, the spectre..."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean, don't start. It's the same thing as the siren was originally, we both meant everything we said then, you meant everything you said now. Just because you feel guilty doesn't make it any less true." He said grimly and Dean scowled.

"Look jackass, I'm trying to apologise." He said, and Sam looked at him sceptically.

"Really? Maybe I should accept it then just bring it all back up again later. After all that's what you do isn't it?" he asked cattily, and Dean had to admit, that was a pretty good shot, and a good point.

"Sam, will you just listen to me?" he demanded and Sam glared at his older brother.

"Why? You never listen to me when I apologise." He grumbled and Dean swore in exasperation.

"I do listen to you, why would you think I don't?" he asked irritably and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You're really asking me that? I can apologise until I'm blue in the face, I can die to try and convince you how sorry I am, but it's still not a good enough apology for you. I'm surprised you're not still mad at me for that time I broke your Captain Pugwash toy." He shot back and Dean's eyes widened in realisation.

"So it was you!" he exclaimed, and Sam blushed a little, and Dean could see a slight smile tug at his brother's lips, it wasn't much but it was a start.

"Yeah, sorry." He said sheepishly, and Dean glared.

"I knew it was you, you told me Bobby broke it when he sat on it." He said ruefully, the beginnings of a smile on his own face and Sam shrugged.

"I didn't want you to be mad at me." He said without thinking, then realised what he had said and turned away from Dean.

"Sam..." Dean said in amused, patient exasperation.

"Look Dean..."

"No. I know you think I meant all of that. And, I think I kind of did. But that still doesn't excuse everything I said. Spectre or no spectre, you might have screwed up a lot, but you didn't deserve that. And the soulless thing, that was low. We both know it was Cas who did that, not you. So, I'm sorry ok? And I know you don't think I mean it, that I meant everything I said to you, but if I was in my right mind, I would never thrown the soulless thing at you. So I'm sorry ok?" he asked softly and he looked hopefully at Sam to see if he was listening.

Sam sighed wearily.

"Dean..."

"Look Sam, I'm just trying to apologise alright?" he asked in frustration and Sam glared at him.

"Hey! I know you're trying to apologise ok? But it doesn't change anything, you'll just be waiting for the next time I screw up then you can bring it all back up again." He sneered and Dean looked at him, put out.

"Is that how you think we work?" he demanded, and Sam looked at him with a disbelieving expression on his face.

"How can I think anything else? It's like last year all over again, I finally think you've finally forgiven me for all my cock ups and then you throw it all back at me and show me you're still as mad now as you were when I originally did it! You're still pissed I left for Stanford, you're still pissed about Ruby and you're still pissed about the Apocalypse. Well this may be news to you Dean, but you've screwed up too, but I never throw it all back at you. You want me to admit I did wrong? Yeah I did plenty wrong. And I should have looked for you and I didn't. But you did wrong too. Yet I don't make you feel like the lowest scum on earth every time you do something wrong." He pointed out, and Dean glared at him.

"Maybe I just don't like the fact that my little brother continually screws me over. You wondered why I didn't tell you about Benny?" he asked angrily, getting to his feet and Sam crossed his arms, glaring at him.

"Yeah. Because you knew full well I'd kill him. After all he's a monster, and monster's need to be killed don't they?" he asked savagely, and Dean rolled his eyes in frustration.

"This is an entirely different situation!" he yelled and Sam scoffed derisively.

"Hardly, it's the same situation. Winchester brother finds pet monster. Other Winchester doesn't trust them and wants them dead. Original Winchester ignores his brother and said monster gets to stick around. Then, as always, said monster bites both Winchesters in the ass! We learnt that the hard way Dean! Ruby, Meg, Cas, even Bobby, every time we befriend a monster it kicks us in the balls, and I'm fed up of it. And Benny will betray you, and it'll be up to me to fix it." Sam growled, and Dean looked at him, grinning savagely.

"Well he can't do any worse than you've done to me all these years." He said brutally, and then at the look on his brother's face, he knew he'd gone too far.

Sam was looking at him, his eyes narrowed in disgust, but Dean could see the hurt in the vulnerable part of his brother, the part that was, in an ideal situation, aimed at his brother in a pleading puppy dog look that would melt all of Dean's resistance. Basically the part that was a direct line to his love for his big brother, and it was now that part that was shimmering in hurt as he glared at him.

"You know what, Saint Dean? You've screwed up too." He snarled, putting his gun in his jeans and picking up his wallet, and though Dean knew he'd hurt Sam he was too riled to try and fix the damage.

"Oh yeah? When did I start an Apocalypse?" he snapped and Sam shoved past him, reaching the door in three strides, his face red with anger.

"When you went to hell. Maybe if you'd let me die, it would never have happened, I would never have let you down so many times and you'd be a lot happier." He snarled viciously and Dean recoiled, he really had hurt Sam if he was bringing that up, the long standing guilt and belief that both Dean and their father might have had better lives if not for him.

"Sam..."

"And to name a few others, try Dillimore, where your boozing made you nearly beat me to death. When you hooked up with a freaking gorgon and got your judgemental, hypocritical ass turned to stone. When we were fighting Raphael and all the others, when you killed me, then went all Rambo and nearly got everyone else killed because you couldn't cope with it. When you trusted Gordon and he nearly killed me several times, not including when he was set loose from Purgatory. When you killed Amy behind my back. When you made your lousy deal that sent the entire world straight to hell in the first place. But no, surely they must all be my mistakes somehow, after all, you never make mistakes do you?" Sam spat, and Dean was beginning to feel really bad as he reeled under the emotional barrage his brother dealt him, while his brother wrenched open the door.

"Sam, wait..." he begged, wanting to try and fix this before it got any worse, but he had resigned himself now, Sam was too angry to listen to him.

Sam glowered at him hatefully.

"No, I don't think I will. But how's this? If I go missing tonight, you can leave me wherever I am. Then we'll be even. That's what you want isn't it?" he asked mockingly and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving his sickened brother staring at the door in shame.

XX

Sam paid for his third beer of the night, the ambient noise of the bar letting him block out everything. Yeah, Dean had reason to be pissed off. Yeah, he had let him down again. But despite everything they had been through together Dean was still the same judgemental, hypocritical pain in the backside he had always been, and Sam had been stupid to think any different. He didn't even know why he bothered trying to get Dean to trust him again, clearly nothing he ever did, like sending both Lucifer and Michael into the cage, helping Dean save Lisa and Ben, fighting every monster from Eve to Leviathans and not killing that blasted pet vampire of his was ever enough to make Dean truly forgive him and move on from all the mistakes he had made. He was clearly just wasting his time.

"You want to slow down there champ?" the owner asked and Sam glared.

"Not really." He grunted and the man shrugged and went back to his business.

"This is a change. I remember a time when I was the one who would be drowning their sorrows and you were the one who would be back at the motel worrying." A most unwelcome voice said and Sam didn't even bother to turn around.

"Just go away Dean, I'll come back when I'm good and ready." He bit out and Dean sighed.

"Sam look..."

"Forget it Dean. I give up. I make mistakes, I apologise I try to atone, and yet you never give me a break. You make a mistake, I try and hold it against you and I'm told to drop it and move on. I'm sorry for all the stuff I've done ok? I feel awful about it, all of it, yet you don't seem to think that I do so every chance you get you remind me of what a big screw up I am. Do you think I cared about the Apocalypse when I went into the cage? I went in there to try and show you and Bobby and Cas how sorry I was, to clean up the mess I made because I was so arrogant and bloodthirsty, and it's still not good enough for you. I don't know what to do anymore. And I'm the only one, Cas basically did everything I ever did, he almost killed me, and you didn't hold it against him. No, Saint Cas and Saint Dean are in it together, they're perfect and never make mistakes, but Sam, no, he's evil, he always lets his big brother down, he always screws up so let's just keep reminding him how worthless he is." Sam recited and Dean glared.

"Alright, you've had enough to drink, let's go." He said, taking Sam's wrist but his brother shook him off and now he turned to face his brother he saw that he wasn't even tipsy yet.

"No, I've not Dean. I might not be you but I can still hold my drink pretty well nowadays. I got good practice when I was drinking myself into a stupor every night to try and take my mind off the fact that I'd lost my brother again." Sam snarled and turned back to the bar, ignoring the questioning looks he was beginning to get from the patrons.

Dean sagged in exhaustion. He was mad at Sam. He had a right to be. He also knew Sam had a right to be at Dean. And once again he was being a pain in the ass hypocritical bastard with impossibly high standards that no one could meet.

"Sam, will you just listen to me?" Dean asked angrily, his frustrations getting the better of him.

"I'm still sitting here, if I'm listening, well I'll see. Seems to be like how we work." Sam said coldly, slugging his beer, and Dean clenched his fist in irritation.

"Sam, that isn't how we work at all. Yeah, you've made a lot of mistakes, but so have I." /He said and Sam glared at him.

"Really? Can I get that in writing? Because it seems like you think only I screw up. Face it Dean, there are three examples of perfection, you, Cas and dad, and I don't hold to any of those standards so I'm automatically a failure." Sam ground out, and Dean forced down the rising wave of anger.

"I don't think dad is perfect. Or Cas. They made mistakes too Sam." He said in a voice of forced calm and Sam scoffed derisively.

"Yeah but they don't suffer for it. Even before he died you knew how much dad had ballsed everything up over his life but no, he was still your perfect father and you were still daddy's little soldier. And no, we can't call Cas on all the crap he's done, we can't upset Cas' delicate feelings."

Dean growled in vexation.

"Sam, it isn't like that at all and you know it!"

"Please." Sam sneered in derision and Dean had finally had enough.

"Alright fine. Sit here and stew, I don't care. I'm fed up of trying to talk to you."

"The feelings mutual."

Dean turned and headed for the door, but Sam's cold bitter voice held him back.

"You know Dean, if Benny is such a great brother, a better brother than I ever was, who never lets you down, why not go and hook up with him huh? Has to be better than having me stick around doesn't it? After all, I'm always the one who lets you down. You have every right to be mad. But I can be mad at you too because even after everything we've been through, you still can't let things go, you still can't trust me." Sam said simply and Dean glared at his brother's back.

"Trust is earned Sam." He snapped back and Sam shrugged.

"Yeah and I deserve what I get for leaving you. But for everything else, I don't know I reckon we might have moved past that by now. Obviously not. So why don't you just hook up with your new brother? You said yourself, he's better than the one you've got." He said emotionlessly, and Dean felt that as a gut punch, but he refused to turn back to Sam.

"Yeah, he is." Dean growled and stormed out of the bar, leaving Sam drinking his beer amid the stares of the patrons.

XX

Dean was fuming as he headed back to the motel. He knew his actions since he had returned from Purgatory hadn't helped the situation. He had treated Sam like crap. True he had deserved it, after all he hadn't even looked for him and what was more he'd abandoned Kevin to his own devices, but somewhere among all that he had gone too far, and the case with the spectre, when Dean had basically lined up everything Sam had ever done wrong and threw them all back at him, even though he had more than atoned for most of them, that had just been the icing on the cake. He didn't know, maybe he still resented Sam for everything he had done wrong over the years. He certainly resented him for abandoning him in Purgatory. He resented him for hating Benny. He resented him for thinking that Dean thought he was perfect, that he never made mistakes, and that he and Cas were subject to one rule while Sam was subject to another.

Maybe he wasn't right to resent him for that. After their misadventure stopping the new Apocalypse the year before, Sam had finally lost all patience with his brother and had told him what he truly thought. Sam thought Dean was an arrogant, judgemental, two faced, hypocritical jackass, and at times, Dean had to admit, they were fair accusations to make. Sam had always suffered most. If he screwed up Dean never did let him forget it, even now, all these years later, he was still throwing all of Sam's past mistakes at him whether he meant to or not. No wonder Sam couldn't stand him at times, he was like a Rottweiler but with none of the redeeming character features.

Dean kicked angrily at a can that was lying on the road. He knew Sam was angry, and upset by some of the things he had said. He also knew that Sam knew he deserved a lot of what he was getting thrown at him. But still, he couldn't help but feel slightly bad. Yeah he could be mad at Sam. Sam could also be mad at him. Dean had said some things, while on the case and even since they had come here, that Sam didn't deserve at all. Benny may have acted more like a brother to him than Sam had recently, but who was Dean kidding? However fond they were of each other, Benny had originally hooked up with Dean as a means to his own escape.

Dean scowled. He hated fighting with Sam. He was afraid that one day, they would have one fight too many, they would both go too far, and Sam would walk away and never turn back. He feared Sam leaving him as much as he feared Purgatory, or Hell. He didn't want it to happen. Because while he may treat Sam like dirt at times (sometimes he did deserve it, true, but most of the time it was just him being a jerk and he knew it), he truly loved his little brother.

Sam's final comment, about Benny being a better brother than he was, he thought that was what was truly getting to Sam. Sam knew he wasn't a good brother, knew he had let Dean down many times. But he didn't need Dean rubbing his nose in it. He also didn't need Dean telling him that he basically preferred a vampire over him. Dean sighed. So much for over four years of growth and development, it was basically the Ruby and Cas situation all over again. Yeah, it pissed Sam off that Dean still didn't trust him and still hadn't let everything but his most recent failure too, and he could see where he was coming from with that. In his shoes, Dean would be angry too. But the thing that had truly hurt his brother was the fact that Dean had basically implied that he was to blame for everything wrong in his life, and what was more, that a murderous vampire was a better brother than he was. Dean didn't blame everything wrong in his life on Sam, even though it seemed like he did. When in the drunken rage that had almost killed Sam the year previously, under the influence of alcohol, Dean had basically blamed Sam for everything and he remembered entering the hospital, seeing his beat up and barely alive brother sitting there miserably because he was the one who made his brother what he was. He had never meant to make Sam think that then, and he hadn't wanted to now. The problem was they were at loggerheads so much recently, ever since he got back, that all they seemed to do was fight with each other. A lot.

And what he'd said about Benny, he supposed it was akin to when Sam had told him that he had wanted to get away from him. Dean had not taken that news well, and now he had just told Sam that a vampire made a better brother than he was. Yeah, maybe Dean was just as much as a crappy brother to Sam as he had been to Dean of late.

Dean came to a stop. He knew Sam didn't want to talk to him, but the protective part of him (which was currently also working in partnership with his guilty part) wanted to go back and fetch Sam. They needed to talk things out, fix things as much as they were able, or otherwise they truly would lose each other, and he couldn't deal with that. He needed to make things up with Sam. Because no matter how much they fought, he loved his brother. And the thought of Sam leaving him scared the crap out of him. He'd just found his brother again after his vacation in Purgatory. He didn't want to lose him.

Sighing, Dean resolved. He had to try and fix this. Sam had messed up, yeah. But he was his brother, his little brother and unless he did something soon, he risked losing Sam for good. He was damned if he was giving up on them now, after all this time, just because Dean couldn't manage to forgive Sam for every little thing he had done wrong when Sam always forgave Dean anything. Maybe it was time both of them started acting like brothers again.

He was just about to head back to the bar when he was suddenly kicked in the back, sent crashing to the ground. Dean grunted in pain and surprise as he landed, and then he felt a long and thin implement rip open his jacket collar and puncture the back of his neck. Crying out in pain, Dean grabbed his gun from his waist and rolled over, kicking upwards as he did so. His attacker stumbled away from him and Dean quickly brought his gun to bear and opened fire. His attacker let out an animalistic hiss as the bullets banged through the air, his attacker taking to the streets and vanishing into the darkness. Dean gasped in surprised exhaustion, relieved that he had forced his attacker off. What the hell was that? A demonic drive by?

Cursing his attacked, he got to his feet, wincing at the pain in the back of his neck and when he dabbed his hand, he found a significant amount of blood. Cursing and fighting the urge not to vomit, Dean headed back for the motel, figuring Sam could wait a while while he fixed himself up.

And found what the hell had attacked him.

XX

Sam scuffed his feet on his way back to the motel. He really didn't want to talk to Dean when he got in, he just wanted to go in and go to bed. He was so fed up of fighting with Dean. He wanted to be his brother again, he wanted them to be brothers again. But as far as he was concerned there was no chance of that. He had let Dean down too many times, and it was clear that Dean would never forgive him. And the fact that Sam hadn't looked for Dean, despite his reasons, which Dean of course had no interest in, that had been the final nail in the coffin. Sam kicked at an empty bottle miserably. Maybe Dean would be better off with Benny. After all, his precious Benny hadn't let him down whereas Sam had.

Yeah he was jealous. He was entitled to be. It had been the same when Cas had first appeared. Sam, for whatever reason, was forced out of the picture for a new player. Only this time the new player was a sodding vampire and yet he was still a better brother than Sam was. Maybe he should just leave Dean, just take a bus. Once before Dean had said they ought to pick a hemisphere and stick to it. Maybe they should consider that again, after all, it was quite obvious to him that he only ever brought Dean disappointment, failure and misery.

He knew he deserved to feel like this. Didn't make it any easier though. So, he would give Dean a final apology, and then he would go away. He wouldn't be able to mess up Dean's life anymore and then Dean could stay with his new 'brother' Benny, free of Sam making his life a misery.

He hated feeling like this, but he was really past caring, he just wanted Dean to go back to the person he once was. The person he was before his disappointment of a little brother had flushed his life down the toilet. Maybe Benny would make a better job of it.

He entered the motel room, and his head, currently filled with serious considerations of leaving Dean and allow him a chance at a better life without Sam and with his new 'brother', were immediately forced from his mind as he saw his brother, sitting on his bed, attempting to stem the flow of blood from a gouge out of his neck.

"What happened?" Sam asked in concern, heading to his brother's side naturally, and Dean scowled.

"I'm fine." He replied curtly, and Sam rolled his eyes before kneeling on the bed behind his brother.

"I didn't ask if you were fine, I asked what happened." He said, inspecting the wound critically.

"I was ambushed by someone with freaking long nails if you must know." Dean grumbled, trying to staunch the blood awkwardly.

Sam grinned slightly as he saw his brother struggle. He was only human after all. But he moved forward a little bit on his knees and then tried to take the cloth Dean was using from his brother. Dean, being Dean, immediately jerked it away.

"I don't need help Sam." He said sternly, and Sam gritted his teeth.

"No but you do need an attitude adjustment." He bit out quietly, but Dean didn't hear him.

Then, ignoring his brother (after all, Dean did it enough to him), he snatched the cloth from his brother's hand and began cleaning the wound up himself.

"I said I was fine and that I didn't need help." Dean snarled, and Sam, vindictively, poked him harder than was necessary with the cloth, making Dean hiss slightly in pain.

"And I always say I'm sorry but I get ignored so why should you?" he replied and Dean wisely went quiet as his little brother, there as always, looked after him and patched him up.

Dean looked miserably at the wall. He had been unfair, he knew that. Spectre or not he had been unfair. And there was one thing he couldn't overlook, that no matter what, no matter how long it took him, what crazy things he did in the process and how much Dean threw at him, Sam always came back.

Just like he had now, as he was sanitising the wound on his neck silently and efficiently.

Sam cleaned the last of the blood off and started looking for a plaster that he could put over the hole in his brother's neck. Dean wasn't struggling against him, he wasn't saying anything, he was just sitting there letting Sam fix him up as usual (well not quite as usual, he wasn't protesting or moaning enough but still). And so, with his brother relatively calm and looking the other way, and unable to react violently, Sam made the first move.

"I'm sorry. Again." He said, his voice sad, and Dean smiled slightly as he heard the small voice behind him.

"I know you are Sam." He said, and he felt as Sam poked at it gently (though perhaps not as gently as he usually would) to see if it needed stitches.

"Look, if you want, I'll go. That way I can't mess up again." He said softly, and Dean felt his heart stop in terror.

Sam was actually offering to leave, if that was what Dean wanted. He was willing to leave his brother and go off, just so he didn't let his brother down anymore. Dean closed his eyes in dismay at hearing the sad offer his brother made from behind him.

"Sam I don't want you to leave." He said in patient exasperation and Sam, apparently deciding no stitches were needed, applied cream to the wound to prevent infection.

"Don't you?" he asked, wiping off the excess.

Dean grinned slightly, shaking his head.

"Of course I don't dumbass. I don't want you to go anywhere. What I said, about Benny and you..."

"Don't." Sam said, his voice more forceful and Dean could feel the heightened tension at the mention of Benny.

"What I said, spectre or not, I really didn't mean that Sam. You have to believe me. Yeah, you've made a few mistakes. And despite what you think, I know I have too. But despite everything, all we've been through, you are still my little brother and you always will be. You're my brother, not Benny. And while we're at it, let's be fair, there's been times I've been a lousy brother to you, but you've never thrown it back at me like I did with you. Just stay Sam ok? Because if you go, I'm just going to have to come and drag you back." He said, his voice kind, and he could practically hear the small grin on Sam's face.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Because however much we piss each other off, we need each other. I'm not saying we're good. But I am saying I don't want you to leave. I need you Sam. I always did. So just, stick around ok? I don't want to lose you, I only just found you again." Dean said, glad he wasn't actually looking at Sam or else this would be a full fledged chick flick moment.

"Ok." Sam said simply, finishing tending Dean's wound.

"Any ideas?" Dean asked, turning to face his brother, and Sam was frowning thoughtfully as he sat down on the bed normally.

"None, it could be anything, a fang, a claw, a talon. You didn't get a good view of the guy?" he asked, and Dean shook his head.

"No, he ran off after I shot at him, and it was dark I couldn't make anything out about him. We can check in the morning, see if anything springs to mind ok. And Sam?" Dean asked sternly as Sam got to his feet, and his little brother turned to look at him questioningly.

"What?" he asked, but the tone of hostility that had been present earlier in the evening was mostly gone.

Dean's eyes bored into his brothers.

"I mean it, we aren't sorted yet. We need to sort things out, and we will, otherwise we're no good to anyone and we'll just wind up killing each other. We've both said and done things, a lot over the years, that have made it a miracle we've even stayed alive, never mind together, this long. But, even though we still have crap to work through," he said, deciding to quickly cover himself before the glare Sam was giving him got any more dangerous, "me more than you, I know, what I'm basically saying is I need you. Not Benny, you. My actual brother. So I'm warning you, if you're not here tomorrow morning, you and me, issues. Got it?" he asked and Sam nodded, and while he did look slightly less angry than he had, he could tell there was still anger there.

Just as Sam could tell there was still a lot of anger in Dean.

"Got it. Night." Sam said, stripping off and getting into bed.

"Night." Dean said, following suit.

But, an hour later, in the darkness, the lack of the usual sounds made it more than obvious that neither brother was asleep, both of their minds awake, mulling over everything they had said to each other.

XX

Outside, Dean's attacker hissed in annoyance. He had underestimated Dean. If he wanted him dead, he was going to have to be a lot cleverer than he had been, otherwise all he was going to be was dead. So, watching the motel where the Winchesters were, he shot their room a last look of loathing before vanishing into the shadows to plan his next move.

XX

Niandra's eyes opened as she finally achieved her goal. Afteer many hours of Seeing, she had finally located the Winchesters. And now, it was time to begin the final stage of house cleaning. The Perpurigo would finish their mission, and everything would return to normal.

The end began here.

She picked up the glass of water she used to assist in her forays into the future, and with a gesture the water in the glass assumed the shape of General Delphus.

"General, I have them. They are in Cameron, Missouri, at the Leafy Hollow Motel." She said, and Delphus grinned in delight, clicking his fingers.

And then a man, dressed all in black, his head bald and covered by a cowl, appeared in the glass as well. And as he raised his head to look at Niandra, she winced as she always did as she beheld the face of the rank and file of the Ancilla.

For, like his general, he had no eyes, and instead they had been welded shut so that his eyes were permanently closed. But the deformity didn't end there. On his closed eyes were bloody scars, forming the point of a pyramid and stretching back to form their face making it like anyone who looked them in the eye was seeing a cross with an enlarged centre.

"Find the Winchesters. And when you do, kill them." Delphus ordered and the Ancilla bowed before vanishing into the obscurity of the glass.

It had begun.

**And I'm back!**

**Here we are once again, kicking off a brand new story arc this time based on season eight, which is clearly the best season we've had in years. So we have old threats and new, and of course this is a sequel to my season seven based stories from last year, so everything from Demon Drink all the way to Bleeding Storm, and also including Torn Apart all have a significance in this new series.**

**So, as you can see this story is clearly set after 8.06 Southern Comfort (I was so glad when Sam put Dean in his place, he's such an ass at times its about time Sam gave him what for) and even though there was some reconciliation here, the boys clearly still have many issues to deal with and this story has only just begun, so what else awaits the boys? Who attacked Dean? And what was with the Dr Facilier scene halfway through the story? And who and what are the Perpurigo?**

**All will be revealed over the course of this new arc which will be eight stories long! **

**We've got a heavy angst chapter this time round, just to get back into the swing of things, but now that that's done, things start to take off once again. So, to all readers, please read and of course review, remember, nothing gives me a boost like waking up to lots of reviews! (And I'll need them in the morning, I have to get up at some ungodly hour to get to uni for graduation) So until next time, please read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural (or either of the boys sadly)**

Past Sins

The next morning was awkward to say the least. Both boys knew they both still had issues with each other, but neither of them were willing to bring up their issues first, so as always, they repressed it. However, the mutual protection between them, and Sam's own curiosity, meant that he accompanied his brother to where he had been attacked the night before.

"You sure there was nothing?" Sam asked, crouching down to observe the area where his brother had been attacked more closely.

"Yes Sam, I'm sure." Dean said patiently, hands crossed over his chest, which Sam noticed was missing the amulet he had returned to him the year previously after they had dealt with Walt and Roy.

Deciding not to let it bother him, though with great difficulty, Sam scrutinised the area, looking for any clue that might help them.

"What are you looking for anyway?" Dean asked, and Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, I thought we might actually be able to find what got stuck into you, lying around maybe, I reckon it probably came off when whoever it was attacked you. You know any guys with bug nails who might want to attack you?" he asked and Dean shrugged.

"We piss off so many people Sam, it could be anyone. You think of anything that might have big claws and a grudge?" he asked, and Sam grinned slightly.

"That cat you sat on two years ago might do." He reminded his brother and Dean scowled at him, a slight smirk appearing on his face as he did so however.

"That wasn't my fault, served that silly old bat right having a black sofa and having a black cat. Those scratches didn't heal for weeks you know." He complained and Sam grinned patiently.

"I know, you kept showing me." He said in distaste and Dean shrugged.

"What are brothers for?" Dean asked, and Sam let out a cry of triumph.

"This! Look what I've got." He said triumphantly, and Dean bent down to see what was in his brother's hand.

"It's a piece of plastic." Dean said, entirely nonplussed.

"A piece of plastic with a scratch in it." Sam insisted and Dean shot his brother an irritable look.

"Sam, we need concrete proof, not your wild theories." He scolded and Sam looked back at him, just as irritably.

"Hey, I'm trying to help you here you idiot. It's the first lead we have, and I for one would like to know who attacked you. If I thank them or kill them when we find them is another matter entirely." He said sweetly and Dean sighed.

"Alright fine, it might be a clue. I'm sorry, I'm just tense. So it might be from my mystery attacker?" he asked, trying to remain on his brother's good side and Sam nodded musingly.

"Could be, no cat or dog is strong enough to make a claw mark like this. And it's the first clue we've got so I say we run with it." Sam theorised, getting back to his feet and stretching his long legs.

The two walked back to the Impala but it was clear the atmosphere between them was still frosty. Dean personally didn't believe Sam's theory that whatever had clawed the plastic was anything to do with whatever had attacked him, and Sam wasn't happy that Dean wasn't listening to him again.

"Dean..." Sam ventured bravely and Dean sighed wearily.

"Is this conversation going to turn into another fight? Because I'm fed up of fighting with you." He said tiredly and Sam shrugged.

"Depends if you actually let me have my say for once. Do you want to know?" he asked, and Dean looked at him oddly, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Know what?" he asked, and Sam shrugged.

"Well I reckon you're not going to calm down until I tell you exactly what I was doing the last year."

Dean smirked smugly.

"You mean try and justify it to me?" he asked waspishly without thinking and Sam made a noise of exasperation.

"Oh for the love of...forget it." Sam said bitterly, starting to turn away but Dean turned to Sam, his expression stern.

"Look Sam, I'm just having a hard time fathoming why the hell you wouldn't look for me, and I find out that there was no decent reason it was because of some girl and her pet? How am I meant to take that after everything we've done together? You left me to die for a girl and a dog and considering everything I've done for you, I thought I might have warranted a bit more of an effort." Dean said curtly but Sam didn't say a word as Dean stopped at the lights.

And then without even looking, he opened the door, climbed out and slammed it shut.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, angry at his brother flouncing off and the damage he could have done to his baby.

He tried to follow Sam's progress, but despite his brother being as big as a house he couldnt find him in the crowd. Come on, the kid was six foot odds tall, had long hair, and was always clad in plaid shirts of some kind, how the hell could he have lost him already?

"Going to get the kid a lead! And a tracker! And...maybe myself a muzzle." He admitted ruefully, pulling into a parking space and climbing out the car in an attempt to find his brother.

Admittedly, he was still pissed with Sam. Contrary to popular belief about the two of them they just didn't kiss and make up and everything would be fine again the next day. It often took a long time for them to forgive each other (which of course was part of the problem because however subconsciously it seemed as though Dean still hadn't forgiven Sam for everything he'd done wrong in the past). So he was entitled to being angry with his brother. Whatever his reasons, crisis of confidence, finding religion, whatever the hell Sam's reasons were for abandoning his brother to his fate in Purgatory he was convinced that they weren't good enough to justify Sam not looking for him. But, just because he hadn't looked for Dean didn't mean he didn't appreciate Dean and everything he had done for him over the years. After all, he had died for him (though admittedly that was more to Dean's fear of being alone and his own selfishness in wanting his baby brother back so he wouldn't have failed than anything to do with Sam), and despite being angry at Dean for making the deal in the first place, simply because it would take his brother from him forever and it would be his fault, Sam had still appreciated it. Yeah, so maybe implying Sam didn't appreciate everything he had done for him and that he had left Dean to his fate simply because he felt he wasn't worth the effort wasn't the smartest thing to do. But it was clear that both Winchesters had a hell of a lot of issues to work through and that by being his usual belligerent self he was only going to make Sam less inclined to sort through their issues and more likely to push him away for good.

Now, where the hell was that kid?

"Come on sasquatch you're a giant how can I lose you so easily? I might be shorter than you but I can still see pretty damn good."

He considered phoning Sam but he knew that in his current state of mind, which translated as a major bitchy fit at his big brother, Sam wouldn't answer, in fact he might just thrown the damn phone away to spite his brother.

Dean sighed wearily. He had been the one who had said he didn't want to fight with Sam anymore but by shooting his mouth off, he was the one who had made them fight in the first place. Sam was right he truly was an ass at times, an ass with a big mouth. So now, rather than working together on this and sorting things out (which Dean knew full well Sam wanted more than him, he was the one who was into all that touchy feely stuff and not keeping things bunged up inside) Dean was now looking around the town of Cameron for his brother.

But still, Dean did have a right to know why Sam hadn't even bothered to look for him. Sam loved his brother, when they weren't arguing like they were at the moment, it was obvious as it was that the sky was blue or the sun was shining. When they weren't at each other's throats, despite Sam insisting he was all grown up, he did love being Dean's little brother. When they had a squabble over what tv show was better, when they annoyed each other when their respective soap operas were on, arguing over which Star Wars film was best (clearly Empire Strikes Back but Sam was a heathen and said Return of the Jedi (which Dean supposed was his fault, he'd bought Sam a Super Star Destroyer micro machines once with his pocket money and that was it, his brother had been convinced the last film was the best)), it was clear throughout it all that Sam did adore his big brother. Drinking games, showing he was smarter than Dean, wrapping Dean around his little finger with a puppy dog look, Sam clearly adored Dean however much his elder sibling annoyed the hell out of him. And even after all these years, Dean still loved seeing Sam's eyes light up when he praised him for a job well done. So, why had someone who so clearly loved Dean abandoned him to his fate? He just didn't get it, none of it made sense at all. Why would Sam leave him?

Well maybe at the moment he might be tempted if only to give himself a break but before they'd had their showdown with Roman they'd been at their strongest in years. So why not look for him?

But the question also worked two ways. Everyone knew how much Dean loved Sam in return. He'd virtually raised the kid, protected him from everything, from spiders, to monsters under the bed, to literal monsters, even from death itself. So if Sam hadn't looked for him, surely Dean as his big brother ought to listen to his reasons before he passed Sam off as a faithless, abandoning coward. He knew better than anyone that his little brother had made mistakes, of course he had, but it was his job as a big brother to help him fix them and not to hold them against him when he had more than made up for them. Maybe there was more to this than was apparent. And Dean shooting his mouth off wasn't going to help matters.

Dean sighed. Maybe Sam was right about all this touchy feely dealing with your feelings crap. If it meant they could get through the day without sniping at each other, or killing each other, it had to be worth a try.

Figuring Sam would come home when he had simmered down, Dean decided to hit the books. Because, even if the two of them were at each other's throats, he still needed to find out who had attacked him.

XX

Sam, still scowling darkly, headed for the motel room door. The Impala was parked outside, so he assumed Dean must be inside, probably still seething. He didn't know why he even bothered trying to communicate with his older sibling at times, he really didn't. How could Dean think he didn't appreciate everything he'd done for him? Dean had raised him, cared for him, protected him while their father was too busy pursuing demons in his quest for revenge, Dean had basically raised him since he was only about a foot long (admittedly, he's raised him rather far). Yet after all that, Dean didn't think Sam appreciated him. True, Sam had screwed up by not searching for him, and Dean was right not to be happy with him, but to assume he hadn't looked for him simply because he didn't want to make the effort, because he didn't want or need his brother around? He really was an idiot, how many times now had Sam tried to get it through his brother's thick skull that he did appreciate everything he had ever done for him. But now, Dean believed Sam hadn't bothered looking simply because he didn't want to repay the effort he had always made. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Sam opened the door to just find Dean plating up two currys, the place smelling as if he had made them from scratch.

"Hi." He said simply, putting a piece of naan onto Sam's plate and putting it down in front of Sam.

Sam, as always struck by amusement at seeing his brother in the role of a domestic goddess, grinned slightly and looked at his brother questioningly.

"What's all this about?" he asked, setting down the things he had gotten from the library.

Dean shrugged as he set down his own plate and got two beers from the fridge.

"I felt a bit bad. I know you appreciate me, you've tried to get it into my head often enough. And besides, at least if you eat a nice, thick, creamy curry you might actually get some meat on your body." Dean said, playfully chiding, passing his brother a beer and Sam grinned slightly.

"I will ignore that statement only because you're such a good cook when you go all Nigella Lawson." Sam said, sitting down at the table and beginning to tuck in.

Dean, sighing slightly in relief, sat down opposite his brother, watching with a slight smile as his brother wolfed down his curry. If he was paranoid he would say it was because he wanted to get away from his brother as soon as he could, but Dean knew better, Sam always got hungry after a long study session. And the fact that they'd skipped breakfast hadn't helped either.

"Look Sam, I'm sorry. I just don't get it, why you would basically abandon me and leave me for dead. Just help me understand, please." Dean said in pleading exasperation and Sam shot him a dirty look.

"I was trying to tell you this morning before you got all judgemental and decided I left you there because I don't value you as much as you value me." He scolded, and Dean smiled ruefully.

"Yeah, sorry, that was a bit of a dick move. I know you appreciate me. So, since I made you a nice dinner and everything," Dean asked hopefully, "do I get to know?"

Sam rolled his eyes in amusement.

"I see, so this meal isn't an apology, it's a bribe, as well as an excuse to try and fatten me up." He said, poking at a bit chicken and Dean waved it off.

"Hey, I can have ulterior motives. But seriously?" he asked, desperate for an answer and Sam sighed.

"Promise you won't lose it, or accuse me of anything until I'm finished?" he asked, shovelling down some rice and Dean nodded.

"Promise."

Sam sighed, and after taking some beer, began his tale.

"You don't know what it was like Dean. You and Cas, you were both completely gone. Bobby was finally gone. And Crowley had taken Meg, which meant I didn't have anyone I could turn to for help. Garth, Jody, Missouri, Marion, they're all well and good but they don't know enough. And all of a sudden you were gone, just like you were when Lilith had you killed. I didn't know where to start. I looked everywhere, tried every one of your phones, all your old girlfriends, and boy do you have a lot, anywhere you might be. I looked for any sign of you but I couldn't get any. I summoned demons and angels, none of them told me where you were. I genuinely thought you were dead." Sam said, and Dean's expression, which had still had a wall of anger behind it, had softened as he heard his little brother speak so sadly.

"But Sam, we've never let that stop us before." He said, and Sam nodded miserably.

"I know we haven't. The thing is, I didn't know where you were dead. I thought you were in heaven, but then I thought you might be in hell, I didn't know. I tried to think of how to get you out of wherever you were, but no one would help, no one could help. And I was losing it. You just weren't there, I had no idea if you were alive, dead, somewhere, elsewhere, I was seriously cracking up. I'd given up all hope of finding you. The night I hit Riot...I didn't want to go on. All I knew was you weren't there, you weren't anywhere and I had no way of getting you back. So I was just driving, hoping at the end I would wind up wherever you were, and that's when I hit Riot. Then I took him to Amelia, fixed him up and kept him around. You weren't there, and Riot gave me something to live for. And he reminded me of you, he had that affectionate but dim look down pat." He said with a slightly grin and Dean, who had been making the exact same face, scowled slightly.

"So you just thought by driving up and down the country you would find me?" he demanded and Sam rolled his eyes.

"No jackass, I intended it to be one way." He explained, and Dean frowned (totally proving Sam's opinion of his look in the process) before it finally clicked.

"Ooh...Sam..." he whispered in realisation and Sam shrugged.

"I didn't see any point in it. But because I had Riot, I knew I couldn't leave him, and through him I got Amelia. So that's why I didn't look for you Dean. I tried but I was losing it, and i was just about to give up when Riot and Amelia came into my life. I'm sorry I let you down again though." Sam said miserably, but Dean didn't say anything.

He couldn't imagine it. Sam had wanted to pack it all in, kill himself without his brother, and it turned out the dog and the girl Dean had so readily dismissed were the reason he still had his brother. Otherwise, he would have returned and found that Sam had been long dead. Suppressing a shudder at that thought he got up and turned away from the table.

"Dean?" Sam whispered anxiously, and the next instant Dean had came around and wrapped his brother in a hug.

"I'm sorry Sam, I didn't know." He said, smiling in relief as his brother returned his hug eagerly.

"It's ok."

"No it isn't, why didn't you tell me this earlier?" he scolded in annoyance and Sam grinned.

"Because you had already decided you didn't want to listen remember?" he asked cockily and Dean harrumphed, he hated having a smarter brother than he was.

"Smart ass."

"Thanks for listening though. And for tea. You ready to do more listening?" he asked, pointing to the pile of things he had brought back from the library as he shoved their dinner away from them.

"You got all that stuff? All I got was a headache from looking at the books all day." Dean grumbled, sitting down beside his brother as he switched on his laptop.

"Yeah. Now, the books point to loads of beasties it could potentially be but I did a lot of checking. As far as I can see, there's nothing supernatural about Cameron. Which means, whoever and whatever attacked you must have followed us from Kearney, or happened to come across us when they were passing through." Sam explained, and Dean nodded.

"Well I suppose that makes sense. Did you find anything out about the plastic?" he asked, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah, the police here aren't too bright, I told them all I was plain clothes FBI and they were all stupid enough to believe me and lend a hand. Anyway, as far as they can tell, due to the way it was done and the figments of dry skin they found on it, it was definitely a human who gouged that slice out of the plastic. Of course they think it's just a human with incredibly long and strong nails, but thankfully, we know better."

"Lady Deathstrike?" Dean asked hopefully and Sam shook his head in exasperation at the reference to the X-Men character.

"No dummy, it's clearly a creature of some sort. Now, according to them very few people actually stay the night in Cameron. But an interstate coach comes through the town every week night." Sam explained and Dean's eyes widened in realisation.

"So my mystery attacker came through on the bus?" he asked and Sam nodded.

"Seems like that. Somehow he knew where you would be and was here waiting for you." Sam explained, and Dean growled in annoyance, partly at himself (how couldn't he have found out all this stuff) and the rest at his mystery attacker.

"This is all great Sam but it doesn't help us find out who actually attacked me." Dean pointed out, and Sam grinned.

"That's where you're wrong. Only four people got off the interstate the night we arrived, and there couldn't have been any way of him knowing before we got here that we would be here, we weren't meant to stop off here and we didn't tell anyone, true that's partly because we don't have many people to tell...anyway, the interstate starts in Montana and then comes all the way through the mid states before going through Missouri on its way to South Carolina." Sam told him and Dean breathed through his teeth in frustration.

"It still doesn't tell us anything though." He pointed out and that was when Sam pulled a DVD from his folders, and Dean smiled in a mixture of pride and irritation.

"Why couldn't you have just shown me that at the start?"

"Reduces the dramatic effect. And I wanted you to feel bad I've been working my ass off all day to get all this stuff. Look at this." Sam said, and Dean was too curious tying to see what Sam had discovered that he didn't even try and tell him off.

He put in the tape showing the CCTV from the town's bus station, and both brothers were watching intently. First of all two old women got off and were met by someone who looked like a son of one of them and then they were gone. The next was an old man with a walking stick, who flagged the driver to wait. And then finally it was a teenager, moving very gingerly, and he crossed the line of the camera and vanished from sight. And while the boys watched the bus, eventually the old man got back on and it went about its business.

"The teenager?" Dean asked, and Sam nodded.

"That would be my guess, I reckon we can rule out the two old dears don't you? And look at this." Sam said, rewinding it and zooming in on the kid, more specifically on the ticket held in his hand, and Dean looked at his brother in shock as he saw the state emblem it was marked with.

"A ticket from Montana. Alright, I'll admit it, you are good." He said grudgingly and Sam grinned.

"I know I am. Who do you know who hates you in Montana?" he asked, and Dean shrugged.

"That mechanic, but he doesn't have sharp claws, just a sharp pen and a sharper tongue." He complained, making Sam grin.

"Well you did tell him he was incompetent, if you didn't want him to do it that way you should have done it yourself." He told him, switching to another disc and Dean glared at nothing in particular.

"The asshat was trying to put Lamborghini wheel trims on my baby, of course I lost it with him!" he exclaimed loudly, but then watched closely as Sam displayed another video.

"This is from the stretch we were this morning, and there's you, sulking on the way home." Sam said, pointing to Dean's figure and Dean shot him a dirty look.

"I was not sulking, I was brooding, there's a difference." He explained with dignity, but his eyes were then drawn to a figure that looked mildly like the teenager, but both images were so bad they couldn't make out anything else.

"Wait, I got attacked by a teenager? And a teenager who's drunk?" Dean demanded indignantly, pointing to his supposed attacker.

The kid was definitely having trouble walking properly, that was for sure. His gait was irregular and stompy, it certainly didn't look natural.

"I don't think he's drunk, look at him, he's walking and standing upright, he's not drifting, I reckon he just can't walk very well." Sam theorised as they studied the scene, watching as both Dean and his pursuer disappeared.

"So, we reckon it was him?" Dean asked, and Sam nodded cautiously.

"I think so, but it doesn't really help us that much, even if it was him, we still need to search the entire town for him and find out what the hell he is before we can do anything." He pointed out, but Dean waved off his concerns, now they were actually getting somewhere and hadn't fought in several minutes, he counted that as progress.

"It doesn't matter, we've got a start. Where would a kid like that hide out?" Dean asked, and Sam shrugged as he looked at a town map on his laptop.

"The local hostel maybe? Here? Huh, wish I hadn't thought of that now." Sam said, and Dean picked up his gun, beckoning to his brother.

"What do you say we go out for a drive?" he asked, and Sam rolled his eyes before looking pointedly at the dishes, making Dean tut in exasperation.

"Sam, we don't have time for you to be OCD, someone is trying to kill me and is willing to pay astronomical transport fees so they can and you're worried about a few dishes? They'll still be here when we get back, now let's go!" Dean ordered impatiently and Sam dutifully followed his brother from the room, shutting it behind them.

Sam looked around the parking lot. Something suddenly didn't feel right as he looked around, and was about to say as much to Dean when something else caught his eye. Uh oh. Dean was not going to like this, not one little bit.

"Dean, did you have an accident today with the car?" he asked gently, and his brother frowned.

"No, you think if I'd had an accident I would still be here, I'd have gotten it fixed. Why?" he asked, coming around to Sam's side of the car, and Sam braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

At first it looked fine, but on closer inspection, it was far from it. A long, thin scratch had been carved in the passenger side, just as it had been in the plastic Sam had found earlier, a long, white scratch up the Impala's perfect finish. Dean staggered backwards upon seeing this and Sam deftly caught his brother, who was suddenly light headed.

"Sam...someone, someone has scratched her. This was deliberate. Someone has scratched my baby!" Dean bellowed and Sam winced as his brother yelled right in his ear.

"Yeah, let's forget shutting the gates of hell, this is much worse." Sam muttered, but Dean heard this and, once he regained full use of his feet, turned to him viciously and Sam winced away from the glare.

"Hey I was kidding, this is worse than the Apocalypse." He said, slightly earnestly and Dean growled as he inspected the damage done to his car.

"Who did this to you baby? I'll get them, don't you worry, I'll hunt them down and kill them." He assured the car, stroking the canopy while inspecting the damage done to their home on wheels.

Sam, who, while very fond of the car, wasn't as erotically linked to it as his brother was and hence didn't feel the need to talk to it (or sing it a lullaby as he had found Dean doing once after an oil change), was still annoyed by the wanton attack upon their vehicle. Whoever was after Dean was clearly also out to totally piss his brother off, and also knew where they were staying, as the car was parked right outside of their room. Sam wondered if the car had been scratched before he had gone in, wishing he'd paid more attention.

"Is it the same guy who attacked me?" Dean threw at him and Sam shrugged, but he had to admit, it was more than likely.

"Most likely, they did this to prove they can get to you Dean. Dean, this isn't just some guy out to get you, this is a stalker. He's proving he can get to us any time he wants to." Sam said, and Dean glared.

"Well now they've crossed the line, they've damaged her and I'll rip their nuts off. I'm going to kill that kid!" he vowed, and Sam looked at him curiously.

"Yeah but why would a kid want to hurt you?" he asked, and Dean shrugged.

"No idea, but I want to hurt him now. So, we need to think nasties with long thin claws." Dean said, turning back to whisper sweet nothings to the Impala.

"And silvery looking eyes..." Sam said worriedly, taking his gun from his belt.

"What makes you say that?" Dean asked, turning to his brother, just as a blur leapt over his head and there was a slashing noise.

Dean span to see something vanish into the shadows, silvery blue eyes narrowed at him in hatred, but Dean had no time for that as he turned to face his brother, a long thin slash along his neck spurting blood.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled in alarm, vaulting to his feet as Sam collapsed, slamming his head into the canopy of the car before he fell completely to the floor, face going pale as blood started to drain from the slash, his hair pooled around his head. Dean skidded to his brother's side, stroking his hair out of the way briskly but tenderly, and quickly applying his jacket to Sam's neck. Sam stirred weakly, and Dean guided his hand to hold the jacket in place as Sam wearily opened his eyes, which bulged slightly in alarm.

"Dean!" he whispered urgently and Dean rolled out of the way just in time, before kicking up at his attacker's stomach.

His attacker stumbled awkwardly, and Dean tackled him once more, vaulting his attacker over the top of the car.

"What's the saying? Crawl before you can walk!" Dean yelled, kicking the monster in the stomach, wincing as a claw cut into his leg.

The creature tried to make a run for it but Dean, as he could walk without difficult, sprang at him, tackling him to the ground and pinned him.

"You made two big mistakes, first, you attacked my car," he snarled, punching the creature in the mouth, "and then my baby brother!" he roared and punched the creature again.

The creature gave an enraged hiss, stabbing for Dean's eyes with its claws. As Dean raised his hands to cover his face, the creature kicked him in the stomach, knocking him onto his back and then the creature bent over double and basically vaulted away on all fours, which he could manage a lot better than two legs.

Glaring at where their attacker had disappeared, Dean ran to his brother's side. His face was still pale but there were no immediate signs that the slash was anything more than a bad cut. So, glaring around anxiously and hoping no one had heard their altercation, Dean hoisted his brother up into his arms and escaped into the relative safety of their room.

XX

Dean was just looking at their father's journal for the third time in two hours when Sam made a noise, indicating he was awake. Dean, all their arguments forgotten, was at his side in an instant, gently brushing Sam's hair from his face.

"You ok?" he asked softly, and Sam rubbed his eyes blearily, massaging the bruise on his temple from where he had hit the car.

"Yeah. Are you?" he asked, sitting up a bit despite Dean's attempts to stop him doing exactly that.

Dean grinned.

"I didn't get hit aside from a graze on the leg if that's what you mean. But no I am not ok, this creepy stalker bastard had slashed my car and then slashed my brother, which is an automatic way to piss me off. In fact, I might have one day got over the car, but attacking you is beyond the pale." He grunted and Sam smiled slightly.

"Thanks. Do we know if this thing is poisonous? Because it's stinging like a bitch." He said, pointing to the long, thin slash in his neck.

"I don't think so, it didn't affect me and since he actually stuck his claw in it would have affected me by now. You were right about him walking actually, it's like he can't control his legs properly, yet when he used them to escape on all fours, he moved like a natural, its weird. He can pounce, like how he got you, and run on all fours, but he can't walk properly on two legs. Any ideas?" he asked, and Sam frowned thoughtfully.

"None that spring to mind. Did you get a good look at him?" he asked, and Dean shook his head, looking irritated.

"I was about to but he stabbed for my eyes so I lost my grip on them. I didn't fancy relying on your crappy driving for the rest of my life." He teased and Sam pouted, sending Dean a reproachful look but smiling all the same.

"There's nothing wrong with my driving." He said with dignity, and Dean grinned.

"The lamppost you took out would beg to differ." He reminded him and Sam pouted all the more.

"That wasn't my fault, I hit black ice. So we don't have any clue who he was?" he asked and Dean shook his head.

"Nope, we still don't have a clue. Did you get a decent look at his eyes, that would help?" he asked, and Sam shook his head.

"No, all I saw was the colour before he was on me. But, while we might not know, this guy might." He said triumphantly, and showed Dean a small business card, making Dean grin in delight.

"You little sneak. Hang on, this isn't why he got you was it?" he asked sharply, and Sam shook his head.

"No, I was already going down and I picked his pocket, kind of like what I did with Amy. What's it say, my visions still a bit blurry." He admitted ruefully and Dean grinned, taking the card from him and studying it. The emblem was a totem pole flanked by a couple of potion vials.

"Hmm, looks like a magic shop in Anaconda, Montana. Reckon our stalker friend came from there?" he asked and Sam nodded.

"Would make sense since we reckon he came from Montana. And if the magic shop really is magic..."

"It might help explain our stalker friend. So what do you reckon, witch? Shaman?" Dean asked hopefully, and Sam laid a hand on his wrist.

"Hey, we don't know he's involved, cool your jets. We need to go and take a look around, then we can see what we need to do." He said, and Dean rolled his eyes and nodded reluctantly.

"Ok, but I'd rather chop first and ask questions later." He admitted and Sam glared at him scoldingly.

"Which is the same blood thirsty attitude that nearly lost us Kevin." He reminded tartly and Dean nodded sheepishly.

"Yeah, admittedly that wasn't a good move. Alright, I'll behave. But first thing we do in Montana is get to a hospital." He said, and Sam looked at him patiently.

"Dean, I'm fine!" he insisted but Dean simply shook his head stubbornly.

"We thought that after Becky smacked you round so much in New Orleans and it nearly killed you. We're going." He said sternly and despite himself, and his eyes rolling, Sam grinned.

This was more like what they had been before he vanished. They weren't back yet, not completely, but they were getting there.

"And besides, the sooner we get some distance between my mysterious stalker, my baby and my baby brother, the happier I'll be. I've already loaded up the car. Let's go." He said, and Sam, stubborn to the last got to his feet, and promptly staggered.

And as always, Dean was right behind him, keeping him up.

The two brothers smiled awkwardly at each other before heading out to the defiled Impala, and Sam was of course treated to an impassioned rant about what Dean would do to his stalker and all his other ilk, the ilk who would dare defile something as beautiful as his beloved Impala. He continued in this vogue for some time, not noticing his baby brother had long since fallen asleep.

XX

"I told you I was fine." Sam said smugly as Dean pulled the car to a stop outside the magic shop that Sam had stolen the card for.

"Well I didn't want you getting another blood clot. Have you found a decent garage yet?" Dean asked impatiently and Sam muttered under his breath about his bad tempered impatient older brother as he checked his phone.

"Dean she managed to drive across several states without her scratch affecting her, a little longer won't affect her too badly, she isn't terminal." He chided, and Dean glared at him but Sam, engrossed in his phone, didn't notice.

"No but it's like she's been raped, and we need to restore her purity." He told him tartly, and Sam grinned.

"Her purity? I think you robbed that with, what was her name, oh yeah, Zara Michaels wasn't it?" he asked with an air of maddening superiority, and Dean went scarlet.

"I-I-I didn't think you knew about that." He said, abashed and trying to avoid Sam's gaze, but Sam, beaming in triumph, didn't let him escape that easily.

"Course I knew, I saw what you were doing when I went past." He said and Dean looked at him incredulously.

"And you kept it quiet all these years?" he demanded, and Sam affected a look of innocence.

"Um, no...ever wonder why Francesca Knight seemed hussy like?" he asked innocently and Dean's eyes widened in shock.

"You told her! I'll get you for that. And don't you flash those puppy dog eyes at me." He said grumpily, making Sam grin all the more, especially as he knew Dean wouldn't last long before he caved and looked back at him.

It only took him thirty more seconds and he caved, once more meaning Sam had won, and with that, they turned their attention back to business.

It had taken so long in the hospital it was already sunset by the time they got out, and by the time they finished the journey to Anaconda and then found the shop, it was already closed and dark. Various vials and apparently magical items were in the window, along with various spells that apparently worked. But, while most of it seemed the sort of nonsense that people who their hacker ally Charlie Bradbury had branded 'muggles' would buy, the vials and their contents seemed different.

"Come back in the morning?" Sam asked, but Dean shook his head.

"We need to know who this guy is that's hunting us. We might have left him in Cameron but I'd rather not take the risk, and when he catches up with us I want to be able to teach him how to respect other people's cars and brothers. Come on." Dean commanded, readying his gun and Sam sighed, bemused, and followed his brother reluctantly.

"Dean we can easily come back tomorrow." Sam told him patiently, but Dean waved him off and after checking to see the coast was clear, got out a lockpick and started to do the necessary.

"To quote C3PO, impossible man." Sam muttered under his breath as Dean exclaimed in triumph.

"We'll just have a quick look around Sam, that's all. Because if that stalker of mine comes back, I want to know if he got any magic tricks from in here." He said, readying his torch and beckoning Sam to follow him, which he did reluctantly.

"Dean, we don't know he's involved, he might have just sold something to the dude. We don't know he's anything to do with this." Sam muttered impatiently, but Dean ignored him.

"Dean!" Sam scolded and entered too.

"Look Sam, this guy is dangerous, if nothing else he might know what he is."

"Which means we should ask him when he's actually here!" Sam hissed in annoyance, as the lights suddenly blazed on, temporarily blinding them.

There was then a heavy whistling and a wooden club collided with the back of Dean's head, dropping him to the floor, out cold. Sam had just spun to face the next attack when the club collided with the back of his head. He staggered forward slightly, his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed unconscious beside his brother.

XX

Dean awoke first, groaning as he did so, to find himself tied to a chair, his brother on another chair and tied to the back of his own. Shaking his head to clear it, and hearing Sam groan irritably as he too awoke, they looked around the lit storeroom until they found their attacker, sitting at a desk and surveying them as a teacher would when disappointed with a student.

He was a strange looking little man. He was short, with a hunched back. His skin was a strange white and yellow colour, with red sort of pockmarks around his face, along with a couple of blue tattoos. He had a strong, beak like noise and small but wicked little eyes. He also had two tone hair, the black hair on the top all curled and he had two long blond pigtails on either shoulder.

"Care to tell me why you're breaking into my store?" he croaked.

"Look mate, it's all just a big misunderstanding." Dean tried to explain but the man scoffed.

"Somehow I doubt it. Otherwise you wouldn't have broken in. So tell me, what is so important that it couldn't wait till business hours?" he demanded, getting to his feet, his posture stooped as he plodded over.

"We were attacked by a customer of yours. He's threatening my brother's life, so we were hoping you knew who he was." Sam explained, and he peered down at Sam.

"And this couldn't wait till tomorrow why?" he demanded irritably, and Sam's eyes widened in realisation.

"You're a Garuda aren't you?" he asked and the man reeled back, shocked.

Dean, irritated that he couldn't see anything, tried to crane around to look but could only see Sam's long hair. Giving up, he simply asked what he wanted to know.

"I thought Garuda were extinct." He said, and the man snorted.

"Not quite, though not for lack of trying. My people were always at war." he explained and Sam looked at him with renewed curiosity.

"Yeah, with the Aquila. Another bird like creature, but much more predatory. The Garuda changed but became too predatory, they were upsetting the balance, and it was only when Phoenixes got involved and made many Garuda their own that the conflict came to an end. But you can't be a full Garuda, only a few were left after the Phoenixes amalgamated them and the Aquila wiped out so many. And you wouldn't have black hair either." Sam said, and the man chuckled.

"You're quite right. I'm half and half, part Aquila, part Garuda." He conceded, and Dean sighed in exasperation.

"Anyone want to explain to me what a Garuda and an Aquila are? And what did you do Sam, eat a bestiary?" he demanded and Sam clucked his tongue impatiently.

"No, I read things other than porn Dean." He sniffed and Dean huffed.

"A Garuda is a fire bird. An Aquila is a thunderbird." The old man explained, and upon hearing this, Dean, most unhelpfully, started whistling the Thunderbirds theme tune.

"Dean, shut it!" Sam hissed, making his brother's reflex whistle falter.

The old man chuckled as he sat down at his desk again.

"You are knowledgeable for one so young. Pity you are saddled with the dead weight." He commented idly.

"Hey!" Dean protested, hating not being able to see what's going on.

"Please, as if I haven't heard the Thunderbirds theme tune every time I admit what I am. I said it to a child once and they replied 'F.A.B'." the old man said in disdain.

Deciding to take action before Dean said anything else Thunderbirds related, Sam took action.

"I'm sorry we broke in, but my brother's just worried. Someone, who we believe came here, is trying to kill him and is willing to kill me too to get to him." He explained, and the old man nodded, stroking his chin.

"Yes I see why it might upset Captain Scarlet over there." The old man wheezed and Dean scowled.

"Hey that was a different show." He said, but the old man ignored him as he surveyed Sam.

"We know it's thin, but he had a business card from here and was definitely in Montana before he came after us. Can you think of anyone who might have been doing to Missouri? We'd be very grateful." Sam said, and the old man narrowed his eyes.

"How grateful?" he asked and Dean struggled against his bonds.

"Very, we won't kill you." He said, and the man chuckled.

"Nice try boy. You won't kill me, I'm too valuable. Maybe even one of a kind." He said and Dean looked at all the potions on the wall, a thought coming to mind.

"Yeah, after all, there aren't many alchemists around nowadays are there?" he asked and this time it was Sam who was surprised.

"An alchemist?" he asked, impressed.

"Yeah. No witchy stuff here, that's why the potions feel different, they are, they're real. He's an alchemist, one of the last of a dying breed." Dean said and the old man chuckled dryly.

"You're quite right sonny boy. So as you know, as I am an old alchemist with no other businesses to support me, I need to take payment. All things are for sale, including information. But for a price." He said greedily, and Dean pondered.

"Goofer dust?" he asked, and the man looked thoughtful.

"Up the price and you might get a deal, not many hunters around these parts, which is preferable of course for a man in my line of trade." He admitted, and Sam shrugged.

"Some holy oil?" he asked and the hybrid smirked.

"Yes, that would be most nice. One more thing and we have a deal. After all, as you said there aren't many of us left. Hunters persecuted us, wrongly believing us dangerous when we are usually simple businessmen." He said, sounding aggrieved and Sam snorted disbelievingly.

"Yeah, but you do share similarities with voodoo practitioners and witches, you violate nature with your skills." He said, and the hybrid screeched loudly, making both boys yell in pain as the sonic attack impacted their ears. The hybrid then changed to a whistle and though Dean couldn't hear anything, Sam was thrashing about as if being tortured, and Dean was beginning to get vivid recollections of the pagan Christmas gods from all those years ago. Sam was screaming in his ear and he could feel his brother thrashing, trying to get free, to make it stop.

"Cut it out!" Dean yelled and the hybrid finally stopped, Sam breathing heavily as his brain recovered from the pitched attack.

"Don't throw me in with those novices, it is their actions that brought hunters and their ilk down on us, not the other way round. We are a peaceful people, dedicated to otherworldly science. Now, deal!" he barked, and as Sam was still trying to recover, Dean took over.

"A couple of sprigs of angelica root?" he asked, and the man cawed in delight.

"Deal! Now, go out to your car, do not bring any weapons, and collect the goods. We will trade when you return. And as insurance, I'll keep your brother." He sneered, and Dean glared as Sam recovered, also glaring.

"That wasn't part of the deal, let Sam go." Dean demanded and he let out a caw of laughter.

"Don't dictate to me boy, I could kill you both easily right now. But, provided you pay up, you and your brother will walk out of here, alive and mostly unharmed, with the information you need. So..." the hybrid said, flapping his hand and Dean's bonds incinerated, allowing Dean to get to his feet and stretch his legs.

"Just do it Dean." Sam ordered, and Dean looked at him worriedly, he didn't want to leave him at risk. Sam was still tied to the chair, but the alchemist did seem to be on the level, he was simply keeping Sam as insurance. He moved close to the hybrid, glaring warningly.

"A hair out of place on his head..." Dean vowed and the alchemist smiled.

"Of course. Here, I'll even put him to sleep so you can tell if he remains undisturbed." He purred, and with a flap of his hand, he sent electricity shuddering through Sam's body.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, as Sam vibrated as if electrocuted, his voice and breath shuddering, before his eyes rolled back and his head flopped over the back of the chair, unconscious.

"See, perfectly safe." The alchemist purred and Dean glared.

"Hardly! You leave him alone, I'll get your damn stuff." He growled, and he backed out of the room, keeping an eye on his unconscious brother as much as possible.

Five minutes later, Dean hurried through the door, goods in hand and he dumped them on the table, presenting them to the alchemist, who rubbed his hands together greedily while Dean rushed to Sam's side, gently cajoling him to wake up. Sam groaned weakly as the alchemist surveyed his goods, and Dean laid a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder.

"He zapped you." Dean growled, and Sam shook his head.

"Doesn't matter. Well?" he asked, his voice getting stronger, and the alchemist smiled as he turned back to them.

"All present and correct. The shocks will wear off in an hour or so. Now, you want information. I did have a customer who requested an ageing potion, paid handsomely for it too. He said he had a score to settle, something about a death of a loved one. And some hunter was the target of his rage. I'm not familiar with his species, but I'm not familiar with many. Long claws though, sharp teeth." He said, and Dean looked at him irritably, believing they had been ripped off.

"That's all?"

"That's all I know. Oh, the potion he used, it would have side effects. It would take him a while to get used to his new body, he would most likely prefer comfort over appearance. That's the problem with ageing potions, so much fine print. Oh, and it was about ten years he aged." He explained, freeing Sam and Dean helped his unsteady brother to his feet, supporting him as he wobbled.

"I suppose you've helped. Now, our weapons?" Dean asked, and the alchemist pulled their things from the drawer, and Sam, hand shuddering, took them as the two Winchesters, eyeing the hybrid alchemist with mistrust, made their way from the shop.

The alchemist chuckled. A good deal, and he did so enjoy screwing over hunters. They were part of the reason both his people and career were a dying breed. He clucked his tongue as he moved Deans chair, but then, he saw one of Sam's longer ones, and his eyes widened in realisation.

He had just had the infamous Winchesters in his store. Sam and Dean Winchester. The price of goods related to them would be astronomical! This hair alone was worth thousands to the right person, and he could think of someone who would very much like to get their hands on one, if not many more, of his hairs. Hairs, nails, sweat, skin, gel, any and all were for sale. He could make a fortune.

And their organs too, if he harvested them and sold them to the right buyer, he'd be as rich as JK Rowling.

But he couldn't rush in. Not with their prey out there, and the deaths of hunters in anything but a hunt might lead to more hunters. But, he didn't have to wait to collect a few more things. Making sure he had more empty vials, he stored the hair and all but flew from the shop, keeping to the shadows.

"You sure you're ok?" Dean asked worriedly, and Sam nodded.

"I'll be fine. Let's just go ok?" he asked, and Dean was about to drive off when the alchemist landed by the open window, cloaked in darkness, and sent a high pitched scream right through their brains.

Dean began shuddering first, his entire body shaking. A line of drool escaped from his mouth as he spasmed, his body shuddering under the assault. And then with a defeated gurgle, his eyes rolled back in his head and he went still, slipping to the side slightly.

Sam jerked and shuddered, his tall body trapped in the confines of the front seat. He let out a shuddering cry as he suffered the attack, his legs flapping uselessly, as did his hands. He gasped in the back of his throat, his head rocking as he was attacked, his long hair falling about his face before he too succumbed. With a weak groan, he slumped in his seat, his eyes rolled back as they closed, his head landing on Dean's shoulder, hair cascading in front of his face as he too went still, his thick tongue sticking out of his slightly open mouth.

The alchemist grinned, and set about collecting samples of everything, skin, hair (including gelled ones from Dean), saliva from Dean, tongue cells from Sam, sweat from both of them and anything else that he considered useful. Once he had collected his samples and stored them safely, he fixed their clothes so that they wouldn't know of his presence, and vanished back into his store, leaving Dean, slumped and unconscious in the drivers seat, with Sam's slumped and unconscious form lying with his head on his brother's shoulder.

And as he entered his shop, the alchemist grinned. And once their hunt was over, their organs would be his too.

Brilliant.

And so he shut his door, leaving the unconscious Winchesters out cold in their car, Dean's head hanging over the back of his chair with Sam's head resting on his shoulder, unknowing as you what the alchemist truly had planned for them and the bits of them he already had.

**The plot thickens!**

**So are the boys dealing with their issues or is this a temporary thing? Who is stalking Dean, and had the audacity to attack the Impala? And just what does the creepy alchemist have planned for the bits of the boys he just harvested? He might seem nice on the outside but he's a nasty piece of work too**

**Bonus points if you figure out where the idea of the hybrid came from, the garuda (two options available) and the aquila (shares it with the garuda). and Thunderbirds even got a mention!**

**Right, so, what will happen next? Will the boys find out who and what is stalking them? Will the alchemist get his wicked way? And who are his mysterious buyers? And since they didnt appear this chapter, what are the Perpurigo up to?**

**Until next time, please read and review review review! (I was kind of down this morning, and reviews cheer me up so please take pity on me!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the boys (good thing too considering how much i torture them)**

Past Sins

"He's not there, the place is shut up tight." Sam reported the next morning, and Dean growled furiously.

The two of them had only awoken about ten minutes ago, both of them cramped and sore, their heads pounding and feeling as if they both wanted to throw up. While he had managed to keep his last meal down, Sam hadn't been quite as fortunate and had thrown up on the pavement as soon as he was outside of the Impala. Furious, as it was clear that the blasted alchemist had been the one who had done this to them, they had immediately proceeded to try and find him, only to find he'd already hopped it the prick.

"Rare species or not, if I see that beaked son of a bitch again..." Dean growled, and then his eyes were drawn to Sam, who was leaning all too heavily on the front of the Impala.

"Hey, you ok?" he asked and Sam nodded slightly, but he still looked very pale and not at all like himself.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He said softly, and Dean looked at him sceptically.

"Sam, you got the worst of it. Come on, let's get to a motel." He said and Sam shook his head stubbornly.

"We can go to the cabin, it's not far." He insisted but Dean shook his head.

"No. For a start, I'm still not right and I'm not up to a three hour drive. And considering I've got a stalker after me I'd rather they didn't find where we actually live. So come on." He said, pointing Sam into the car, and it was a mark of how drained the encounter with the alchemist had left them as Sam only rolled his eyes and went into the car without argument.

Dean glared at the alchemist's shop. There was a reason that breed had almost died out, it was because they tended to piss hunters off, just like that guy had.

Getting into the car, and smirking slightly as he saw that his shaky brother was already asleep, Dean went just over the speed limit as he looked for a motel close by.

XX

"What have you seen Oracle?" Lexii asked coldly, and the seer frowned as she tried to perceive events.

"Something is setting itself against us, but whatever it is it is hiding itself from my sight." She reported and the leader of the Reaper faction hissed in annoyance.

"Setting itself against us? Someone who knows about us, or someone who is just interfering with our plans?" one of the other Reapers, Zain, asked.

"I cannot say, it is hard to see when I don't know what to look for." Niandra replied, and the council exchanged irritated, dark looks.

"Naomi? She seems to have taken over heaven, and she is the head of intelligence, she could easily be aware of us." Ophanim reasoned, but Seraphim shook his head.

"She is only the de facto leader of heaven at present, she doesn't have the forces to exert full control over the masses of angels up there. She rules through deceit and cunning, manipulation. She only uses force and torture when she has no choice." He explained.

"Besides, according to our information, she recently authorised a mission to Purgatory, which will lose her a good many of her forces as it is." Veltas growled in slight approval and Kerubiel cursed under his breath.

"She intends to free the traitor Castiel. How she thinks that will help her control heaven I've no idea." He said in disdain, but before they got any further, Ember raised her hand, her red hair shimmering as she turned to face Niandra.

"We can rule out both of the major factions, Naomi has her own mission and Crowley is too busy trying to keep the Winchesters from shutting hell and removing the last relics of Lilith's coup to truly bother with anything that might be seen as a getting in our way. However, what of the Winchesters themselves?" she asked, and Delphus turned his sightless eyes towards her.

"My soldier is already on his way to deal with them. They will be crushed, and seek to be a threat to us, never fear my lady." He assured her, and she favoured him with an evil smile.

"I don't doubt you General. However I don't doubt them either. My slimeball cousin did and got himself shot by them for his trouble. Many of our angel's friends kindred have also underestimated the Winchesters, and hence lost. I will not allow the Perpurigo to make the same mistake." She purred, and Seraphim looked at Niandra, who was busy trying to see into the future.

"Could it be the Winchesters?" he asked, and she bowed her head in defeat.

"I cannot tell my lord, there are far too many divergent paths following the Winchesters." She admitted, and Macey, the final Reaper, growled in annoyance.

"The Winchesters are a problem we could seriously do without. After all, we are finally catching up with everything that needs repaired following the events of the last four years. And now, just when we are about to achieve our final victory, they return and throw the entire process into the air. Perhaps we should send a legion after them and be done." She hissed, and Delphus then turned to face her.

"My soldier will not fail my lady."

"Be sure that he doesn't General. Let's be frank about this. The Winchesters are the only beings in existence that could conceivably threaten our aims due to the preoccupation of both sides of the eternal conflict. So, once they are gone, we will be in the clear." Akpach said smugly, and Seraphim nodded.

"Quite so. However General, we must be cautious. If there is indeed a plot against us, precautions must be taken. So, these are your new orders. Increase all training by five percent, from all ranks. Human, angel, demon and reaper. Also, being running drills, we are too close now to allow ourselves to fall here. Ember, increase the activities of all of our agents, we need to know who is setting themselves against us and we need to know sooner rather than later. Niandra, continue your attempts to divine this threat. Ophanim, you have investigated Purgatory before, I want to know the instant Naomi frees Castiel, he could be useful to us. Akpach, accelerate our timetable, we need to finish cleaning up this mess now before a greater one comes along. Is that all understood?" Seraphim asked and as one, they bowed their heads and vanished to carry out their business.

XX

"I need more potion." His customer said, barging into the alchemist's private residence.

The hybrid hushed him impatiently, and the teenager waited irritably as the alchemist finished his deal on the phone.

"So that's a thousand dollars for a vial of Dean Winchester's saliva? Excellent! And a further two thousand for the hairs from the head of Sam Winchester? Then it is a done deal, I will dispatch them in the morning." He said cheerfully, hanging up the phone and the teenager looked at him incredulously.

"People actually buy that stuff?" he asked in disgust, and the alchemist nodded.

"Know your market lad. I've already got a couple of ghouls lined up who want Sam's arms, the Alpha vampire is willing to offer half a million dollars each for a vial of blood from each Winchester. A goddess friend of mine is willing to pay three million for all of Sam's hair and a succubus wants to buy Dean's libido for two million dollars. A very good price, especially considering how irritating it is to actually drain the damn stuff. Speaking of the Winchesters, they're on to you. They don't know who and what you are but they know what you bought." He said, sitting down and looking through his customer book to try and find another prospective buyer, a witch preferably, for the skin he had taken from Dean, it would allow them to make a very potent hex bag.

"You told them?" his customer demanded and the alchemist shrugged.

"They offered a good price, do you have any idea how difficult it is to get your hands on genuine goofer dust this far from the south? And holy oil is all but dried up in this area of the world. I'm a businessman you know." He said, and his angry customer slammed his hand onto the table, making the vials he had assembled, filled with various bits and bobs from each Winchester, wobble dangerously, and the alchemist got to his feet, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You would not want to break any of these vials boy." He spat and the teenager snarled.

"Then help me! I need better control over my body, otherwise I'll never kill Dean!" he snapped, and the alchemist sighed irritably before passing the worked up customer a further bottle of ageing potion.

"Using it can lead to potential side effects I'm sure you knew that." He commented idly as his customer drained the bottle.

"Thank you." His customer said, and he turned to leave, but with a flap of his hand, the alchemist shut the door before his customer went through it.

"You're quite welcome. However...you and I are in the same boat, are we not? After all, you want Dean dead. Which inevitably means you will need to kill Sam as you cannot kill one without the other. Better and more powerful creatures than we have tried, and every time they have always come back. Now, while I had them at my mercy last night, it will be incredibly difficult to do so again. Well, to do so alone would be difficult. You want Dean dead. That entails Sam will also die. I have a very lucrative market, a sorceress in Washington wants all of Dean's teeth to make herself a necklace and an ammit that wants Sam's heart for a dinner party. Now, as both boys are among the living, getting the heart without getting my feathers ruffled may be rather a tall order. While I am powerful in my own right, as soon as they woke up this morning, I can assure you that they would be away finding out exactly how to kill me. Which makes collecting the items I need from them all the more difficult. I am not a fighter. But you my lad, are." He said significantly, and his customer looked at him curiously.

"So what, I kill Dean and you get his body?" he asked, and the alchemist nodded.

"Near enough. You heard the vast sums we were dealing in on the phone, and I'm convinced that I could easily get millions for a specific item from a specific buyer of each Winchester." He said, and his customer looked at him curiously.

"Who would that be?" he asked, morbid curiosity getting the better of him and the alchemist smiled greedily.

"The king of Hell would pay vast sums for the heads of each Winchester. And I'm talking the literal head here. We're talking at least tens of millions." He said, and he could see he was winning his customer over.

"So what? I deal with Dean, you cut him up into pieces, then I help you deal with Sam, you chop him up then we sell the excess?" he asked and the alchemist smiled.

"Quite so. And I am an old man, I am looking to retire. However, being a hybrid and without a mate, I cannot lay an egg of my own, so I have no child to take over my business when I take the final roost. You boy have travelled one end of the country to the other, with no set home, no means of supporting yourself, no friends or family, no one to turn too. Basically, my dear sweet child, I am offering you a future. A home, a job, well you would return to your normal age so would only be an apprentice, a legacy and a fortune. What do you say?" the alchemist asked and his customer grinned.

"I reckon you've got a deal. Have you got a plan?" he asked, and the alchemist nodded.

"Indeed I do. Take a seat, and fetch the brand out of the cupboard in the corner. You are technically of age, so let us toast our new partnership." He said, offering a feathery hand to his customer, who shook it eagerly.

XX

Dean sighed in frustration as he ruled out another creature with long claws. He would think he was making progress if he didn't still have hundreds left to check for their possible attacker. Stretching, he turned to check on his brother.

Sam had tried to help at first, but, still weak and shivery, even after the shower Dean had made him have, Dean had eventually ordered him to bed, wrapped up tightly and warm inside the bathrobe they had found in the room. However, while he was feeling slightly better because he knew when his brother awoke he would be better than he had been, it also meant he was now studying alone, and he had always readily admitted that Sam was the brains of the operation while Dean was the brawn and the beauty.

"Ugh, who wants me dead?" he asked himself, getting back to the books.

The question, while it was important to find who wanted him dead, was really who wanted him dead enough that they were willing to take out Sam and even worse in the biased part of his mind, the Impala, in their mission? It didn't make sense. True it wouldn't be the first time an enemy had targeted the brother in order to get the one they really wanted, but none of this seemed to add up. And from what that blasted alchemist had said, whoever was after him had aged considerably to allow them to fight the Winchesters.

He cursed his luck, wishing they had a source of information they could call upon. Bobby would have plenty of solutions, Pamela might be able to foretell who they were looking for, even Cas might have some idea of how to find who was after them, but as all of them were dead, they were basically flailing blind in the wind.

"You getting anywhere?" Sam asked tiredly from the bed and Dean turned to look at his brother as he sat up, brushing his hair with his fingers.

"No, there's loads of beasties with claws, all of whom could want me dead, but it doesn't help me narrow it down to whoever actually is after me." He said, glaring at Sam until his brother, rolling his eyes, acquiesced and pulled the robe shut over his bare chest to keep in the heat.

He was clearly feeling better.

"Alright, this is getting us nowhere. The alchemist knows who we're looking for, so I say we pack up the books and try and find him." Dean said, and Sam nodded musingly.

"Yeah that could work. He only got us last time because we weren't expecting us. So what, we find him and you rough him up?" he asked, and Dean grinned slightly.

"Why don't you ever rough anyone up?" he asked and Sam grinned slightly.

"Because you're the nastier scarier one, I'm the kind and sweet one." He said innocently and Dean snorted in derision.

He would admit Sam was kinder and sweeter than he was (which is probably why all the women in their lives who mothered them, such as Jody and Missouri, preferred him over Dean) but he was by no means a complete innocent.

"Sure you are. Alright, you good to go or do you want another shower?" he asked and Sam shook his head.

"No I don't need another shower, it's not a fever I've got it was a nasty alchemist attack. Give me a minute." He said, getting to his feet and Dean frowned.

He needed to know who the hell was targeting him. Then he could put them down and get the car fixed and everything would be back to normal. But until then, they were both in the sights of an alchemist and their mysterious stalker, neither of whom particularly filled Dean with confidence for their chances.

"Sam, you know how to kill a Garuda/Aquila hybrid?" he asked as Sam dumped the robe on his bed and collected his shirt and jeans from the chair where Dean had left them.

"A Garuda was usually killed by an Aquila's powers, their limited ability to channel a current, and an Aquila was killed by fire, which came from the Garuda. As the alchemist is both, we kind of need both at once." He reasoned, collecting his gun as he finished dressing.

"So what, we need an electrical fire of some sort to counteract both parts?" he asked and Sam shrugged.

"Would seem that way. Problem is, I don't reckon getting him with electric fire of any sort would work. He's an old guy and not to sound ageist, but he probably doesn't have many appliances we could tamper with and we would probably need to fight him anyway to make sure he was in the right place when we set the place alight. And if we do that, that means we can't interrogate him about what he knows about whoever's after you." He reasoned and Dean hummed thoughtfully to himself.

"What about a flamethrower? Could we adapt one so it creates an electrical fire?" he asked, and Sam seriously considered it.

"Yeah, but it would be difficult and dangerous, we would need to use a spark and adapt it and all sorts. Uh oh, I know that look," he said, quickly growing to dread the eager expression on Dean's face, "it's the look you get when you have some harebrained scheme planned." He said, and Dean affected a hurt look and looked reproachfully at his brother.

"Sam, it's like you don't trust me." He said, and Sam grinned.

"You I trust, what goes on in that twisted mind of yours I don't. Alright, tell me the worst of it." He said, and Dean grinned.

"I'll tell you on the way. Get your suit on. As the saying goes, I have a cunning plan." He said in excitement and Sam groaned, anything that made his brother grin like that couldn't be good for anyone.

XX

"You sure that's the room?" his new partner asked and the alchemist nodded.

"Yes. Now, just like we discussed." He ordered and his partner nodded, vaulting out of the car and then using his long claws to open the door to the Winchester's motel room.

This was it. His chance of a new life. He would never forgive Dean for what he had done, and ruining his life. But now he had the chance to do something about it.

Succeeding in his task, he shoved open the door, creeping in just in case Sam hadn't recovered from the alchemist's attack and was still in here. But the coast was clear.

He smiled. This is what he had been waiting for. For the last year, he had wanted nothing but revenge, and had crossed America, trying to get the means and power he needed in order to get back at the one who had ruined his life. However, being a orphan in America wasn't a good idea, especially when you couldn't relate to social services that you were actually the son of a monster, the son of a woman who had been murdered simply for trying to feed her ill son.

For his name was Jacob, and he was the son of Amy Pond. And ever since that day, when he had seen Dean Winchester, despite her pleas not to and apparently his brother's wishes murder his mother and leave her dead body lying on the bed while he watched.

He had talked to Dean that day. Dean hadn't even shown remorse for killing his mother right in front of him. All the cold, callous murdering son of a bitch had done was threaten to kill him too should he ever kill anyone. And it was then that Jacob had made the vow, that he wouldn't kill anyone other than the one who had taken his mother from him.

So, for the last year, he had struggled, and it had seemed that Dean had escaped his retribution, after all there was no sign or word from him anywhere. And that was the case until Jacob had heard about an auction of magical artefacts, which was where he had first heard the Winchesters were in attendance. Ever since then, he had tried to pursue Dean, so he could exact revenge for his mother, but after all, Dean was an adult, and could drive, and despite the way the two acted, he also had a brother who would look out for him. He was only an eight year old orphan, what chance did he have against the best hunters in the world? And that was when he had found the alchemist.

He had got the items he needed to trade, and now, other than his revenge he had everything he needed. And now, he would begin to bring that about too.

Withdrawing the syringe the alchemist had given him, he made his way to the fridge within the Winchester's fridge and smirking, used his claws to scratch a small hole and then used the needle to inject a powerful paralysing agent into the bottle. He did this with the rest of the beers in their fridge. This was it. His goal was in sight, as soon as Dean drank that, he would be totally immobilised, and then, he would kill him. But firstly they had to make sure Sam didn't interrupt them while he got his revenge.

To that end, two plans were in place. What the alchemist called a mortal trick, albeit a good one, was to use chloroform, and they were fully prepared to use that should the boys separate. However, in case they didn't, he had another plan up his sleeve. Witches used hex bags to curse their victims. Alchemists were much more refined, creating specific elixirs targeted at the one they wanted to harm. The alchemist, using one of the hairs he was selling, had created an elixir to use on Sam. Pulling the small vial of golden coloured liquid from his pocket, Jacob used the dropper to drop the entire contents of the little vial onto the pillow of the bed furthest from the door. He'd met a few hunters during his time, and had made a point of appearing to be a young fan of the two brothers, and several friends of theirs, and a few enemies, had all recounted either fondly or derisively how Dean always took the bed closest to the door in order to protect his little brother. Fools.

The elixir, tailored as it was to Sam's chemistry, would act as a poison as soon as Sam inhaled the vapours. His body would go rigid, also rendering him completely paralysed. The elixir would then attack him, rendering him unconscious and unaware no matter what anyone, namely Dean, tried to do. He would be in a coma like state for up to twelve hours, trapped within his own mind, and by the time he was free, all would be said and done.

Nothing would get in the way of his revenge now. Dean would pay for murdering his mother. And then, nothing would stop him beginning his new life, without the shadow that Dean had cast by murdering his mother before his very eyes.

XX

"I'm really not comfortable with this Dean." Sam said nervously, watching as his brother modified their flamethrower.

The idea was fairly simple. By taking out the gas chamber and replacing it with a taser, which would be activated the same way as the gas cylinder, the sparks would ignite the stream of fuel coming down the funnel and light the flamethrower up. However, unlike the gas cylinder, it carried the risk of blowing the user up if a spark got too boisterous, and hence Sam was now watching with trepidation as his brother tinkered.

They had been to the police station and had used their records to find out where the alchemist lived. It was also there that they had appropriated the taser for their own use. And now, Dean was almost done and ready to test out their new weapon.

"You worry too much." Dean said simply and Sam scowled.

"Well excuse me for not wanting my brother to be barbecued. You might annoy the hell out of me, but I thought we had at least ascertained that I pretty much always screw up whenever you aren't around." He said bitterly and Dean smiled slightly at his brother.

"Yeah you do. And then I come along and help clean it up. I might bitch and moan and never let you hear the end of it, but I do help you clear it up." He said and Sam relaxed slightly, but not much he was still half convinced he was going to see his brother immolated in a massive ball of flame any second.

"Here goes." Dean said, and squeezing his eyes shut, he squeezed the trigger, and to both of their surprise there was a shuddering noise from the taser mechanism and then a jet of fire belted out and dissipated into the air.

"Hey, I really am awesome!" Dean said excitedly, and Sam grinned.

"Not to mention modest. Now can we put it away, just in case?" he asked and Dean pouted mockingly.

"Aww, don't you trust my engineering skills Sam?" he asked, affecting a tone of sadness and he grinned when Sam shook his head.

"No I don't. Now let's go. If the thing blows up in our faces, I'd rather we took out the alchemist while it did it." He said and with that Dean followed his brother to the car.

To Sam's great surprise (and admittedly, there was some on Dean's part too) the flamethrower didn't blow them up as they headed to the house where the alchemist lived. Covering the flamethrower under a blanket they entered the small housing block and climbed to the only flat on the top floor. Then, with Dean readying the flamethrower, Sam bent down and picked the lock. Nodding at each other, the boys entered, Sam going first, his gun raised. They entered the darkened flat, and not hearing anything, they began to gingerly make their way forward, Dean's flamethrower (which along with bazookas fell under the category of weapons Dean should never get to play with) raised and poised to act.

Problem was there was no way for his new weapon to block what happened next. Entering what seemed to be a study, there was a flash of light, Sam stumbled, clutched his head slightly and with a weak moan, he collapsed to the ground, unmoving, his mouth slightly open.

"Sam!" Dean yelped in shock, and after looking around for traps, he bent down to check out his brother.

Checking his brother's pulse, Dean looked around and saw what had caused Sam to collapse. A small sort of music box had been set up on a shelf right next to the door, and eyeing it carefully, Dean figured out what it was. Set up in the doorway, as soon as someone crossed the threshold and tripped the wire that powered it, it would then play a very quiet but very accurate recording of the alchemist's voice, more specifically at the frequency he reached in order to knock someone out. Not up to much, but at that range and pitch, as soon as it played, the sound wave of the whistle would travel and hit the intruder with ease, and with a quick burst, the intruder would be rendered unconscious. Sitting Sam up against the door and patting his shoulder fondly, Dean then used a walking stick from the corridor to knock the small music box to the floor, smashing it. Then, wary of anymore such traps he explored the room, leaving his unconscious brother against the door out of harm's way.

Confident that the alchemist wasn't in a few minutes later, he set down the flamethrower and his gaze was drawn to the table, where numerous vials were sat along with various forms and notes. About to pick one up, he leapt about a foot in the air when he heard Sam stir, cursing and holding his head.

"Ow, what got me this time?" he demanded as Dean tried to get his heart rate back to normal.

"Basically, he recorded a whistle, that was at the right pitch and frequency to knock out anyone coming through the door who he didn't want here. Like us for example." Dean said and Sam pouted.

"Why am I the one who keeps getting zapped?" he whined, and Dean grinned.

"You just have that sort of face Sam, it says 'zap me, hurt me, strangle me, just cause me pain, I can take it'." He teased and Sam scowled.

"You know you aren't helping. What's all this stuff?" he asked curiously, and Dean shrugged.

"No idea, I was just about to look at it when you woke up." He said, and frowned as he picked up a vial of clear and slightly thick fluid.

"What do you reckon this is?" Dean asked curiously, and Sam, who had picked up one of the receipts that were lying down on the table, screwed up his nose in disgust.

"Um Dean? It's your saliva." He said in distaste, and Dean almost dropped the bottle.

"What? How the hell did he get his hands on an entire bottle of my saliva?" he demanded indignantly and Sam shrugged.

"You said you drooled a bit when he knocked us out, that's probably out. Don't worry, it isn't all of the stuff he's got. He's got flakes of skin, hair, sweat samples...people actually buy this stuff? Hey!" he said in realisation, and Dean, who was screwing his nose up at a small vial half filled with what was apparently his sweat, looked around.

"Hey what? You haven't found something else icky have you? What the hell does he want with this stuff, what could people do with it?" he asked incredulously.

"This stuff doesn't make much sense, but his pre-order form does. Look at this. A vial of blood from each of us will fetch the alchemist a million dollars." Sam exclaimed incredulously and Dean looked over his brother's shoulder.

"That's crazy, who would buy a small vial of blood for that?" he asked and Sam smiled grimly.

"Who else would like a vial of our blood?" he asked pointedly and Dean shook his head.

"Sam, I've told you, Benny..."

"I wasn't meaning Benny dummy. There's a much bigger and nastier vampire around than him that we still haven't dealt with." He reminded him and Dean cursed.

"You mean the Alpha? You reckon he's sticking his nose out from under his rock again?" he asked, and Sam shrugged.

"He's the most obvious buyer of our blood. Our organs are already to be sold as well, as are our heads, he reckons he can flog them to Crowley. Somehow, eternity on Crowley's wall doesn't appeal to me." Sam said, throwing the list away in revulsion.

"So what, he's basically ebaying off parts of us when we're still using them?" Dean demanded, and Sam nodded.

"Seems to be. But hey, if we ever get bored of hunting we could just steal his contacts and sell bits of us at a time, look at this one, two thousand dollars just for about five of my hairs, we'd be loaded." Sam said, and Dean looked outraged as he looked at another receipt.

"Hey, my hair's half the price of yours, what's the big idea?" he demanded, feeling insulted and Sam grinned.

"Isn't it obvious? One it isn't as long as mine, two it has gel in it and three, my hair's nicer anyway. But it does make you wonder though, what the hell do they all plan to do with this stuff? Look, flakes of skin, what do they want with that?" he asked in revulsion, and Dean shook his head, looking at the pre-order form again.

"At least this makes sense, our organs and stuff but hair and skin, he's got an order here for nails, options available..."

"Well guess that means he's definitely working with our mystery stalker. So what do we do, destroy this stuff?" Sam asked, and Dean frowned thoughtfully, before shaking his head.

"No, not yet. He's working with our stalker, right? And he needs us in one relative piece to harvest everything he needs from us. But he also has to know that we'll be after him, if for nothing else than him knocking us out and stealing bits of us. So, what will he be doing?" he asked and Sam nodded.

"Waiting for us, and so will the stalker. Divide and conquer?" he asked, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah, seems the best bet. But before we go, let's copy down a list of his contacts, so we can find out who the hell is in the market to buy bits of us." He said, picking up the list with the addresses for those the alchemist had already sold items too.

"You sure we shouldn't destroy it?" Sam asked, and Dean nodded.

"Not much point, if he's lucky enough to get the drop on us again he'll just replace them. The son of a bitch was fondling us when we were out, he took the bits and was going to sell them, and we didn't even get a finder's fee. I'm insulted. So, we leave the stuff for now, and after all this is over, then we take the bustard's supply out. Come on, this place is giving me a major case of the creeps." Dean said, and eyeing the room with the various vials of them in them one last time, the two boys left the flat, flamethrower in hand, resisting the urge to torch the place as they went.

XX

So, armed with the knowledge that the blasted alchemist was indeed working with the stalker, after weighing their options, the boys decided to split up. While Dean would go back to the motel to try and lure the stalker into attacking, Sam would take the car and head to the alchemist's shop. Upon arrival there however, Sam realised he'd had a wasted journey. The shop was still sealed up tight, the alchemist clearly knew that the boys would figure out his game eventually anyway so had gone to ground, most likely with the stalker.

The entire thing still bothered Sam. Who would want Dean dead? Well of course there were plenty of options but this just didn't make sense, and where had the alchemist come from? Why had he gotten involved? As he had said, their ilk usually kept out of such things but this one had elected to attack the boys and sell on bits of them. Was he just in it for the money, or was there more to his relationship with the stalker?

And yet again, it came back to whoever the hell the stalker was? How long had they been after Dean? An unpleasant thought then struck Sam, what if something had escaped Purgatory with Dean? They'd had enough experience with old enemies coming back to bite them in the ass the year before, but that didn't mean someone hadn't slipped out when Dean had returned. Or had they wanted revenge on Dean for longer, and had been waylaid by Dean disappearing for a year?

As Sam climbed back into the car, deciding to fiddle with the radio station so it was some local country channel to annoy Dean (an added benefit that a song he liked, Queen of Hearts, was on) he drove off from the shop, his mind mulling all these things over, not noticing a custom Rolls-Royce glide out from an alley and begin to follow the Impala home.

XX

Dean had dressed out of his FBI garb and had gotten himself a beer. His gun was right beside him, trained on the door (he would have to make sure to look before he shot, somehow he didn't think Sam would appreciate it if he shot him) and he had just switched on the tv as he began to consider who might be trying to kill him, and was willing to work with the alchemist to do it.

From the looks of the order forms, it looked as though the alchemist would be getting all of the Winchesters, which meant that whoever was after him wasn't anything too unsavoury, they were just trying to kill him, pure and simple. That of course didn't narrow it down. He could think of plenty people who would want to kill him: Meg, Azazel, Alastair, Lilith, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Gordon, Eve, Roman, Becky, Walt and Roy...the list was never ending. The problem was, all of them were taken care of (aside from Meg, but Crowley had her stashed somewhere and for all they knew she might be dead), all of them were dead so unless one of them had somehow managed to escape Purgatory, or Hell in the case of Lucifer, Michael and Becky, that ruled them out. And then of course there was Crowley and whoever was in charge in heaven now too, they most likely wanted him dead too, but that didn't explain the dude with the claws.

As he thought about things, he suddenly started to feel very strange. A burning sensation was spreading through his body, he couldn't move all of a sudden. He tried to move his feet and his hands, but nothing happened. He tried to open his mouth, but that too refused his commands. He even tried to move, just to prove he could, but that didn't work at all either.

He was trapped. He had somehow become completely paralysed, and he was going nowhere. All he could move were his eyes, and that wouldn't do him much good. His gun was sitting on the bed beside him mockingly and his beer flopped lifelessly out of his hand, spilling onto the floor. Dean made a small panicked noise in the back of his throat. He was completely immobile, turned rigid. His heart began to beat faster, this must have been what it was like when he had been turned to stone the year before but he hadn't actually been aware, not really, then. Now he was completely aware and he was also completely aware that he couldn't move anywhere.

He was beginning to panic. Somehow his stalker had paralysed him, and now Dean felt just as helpless as Sam had the year before in their numerous encounters with his insane ex-wife Becky. He was completely trapped.

Where was Sam? He needed Sam...

The door then opened and he made as loud a noise as he could in his throat to get his brother's attention. But as he tracked the newcomer with his eyes, he saw it wasn't his brother. A tall teenager, now able to walk more or less normally, strolled round leisurely to the foot of the bed, grinning triumphantly. He had curly brown hair, he was fairly lanky but well built along with it, and Dean realised that he was finally seeing his stalker.

There was something about him, but he couldn't quite figure it out, something that seemed awfully familiar.

"I told you I would kill you." He gloated, revealing his long claws, and then his eyes turned an icy blue, easily mistaken for silver, and it finally dawned on him who he was looking at.

His stalker was a kitsune.

His stalker was an orphan.

He was Amy Pond's son, and now he was making good on his promise, the promise to kill Dean for the death of his mother.

XX

Sam got out of the car, his eyes immediately drawn to their room door. It was wide open. Dean wasn't stupid, he knew they were being hunted. Which meant, if the door was wide open, Dean was already in trouble.

The stalker was inside, and his brother needed his help. He withdrew his gun, ready to run into the room when suddenly a cloth clamped to his mouth. Sam made a cry of surprise beneath the cloth, and he began struggling against the strong but brittle grip, trying to break free. But as the first scents of it got up his nose, it belatedly dawned on Sam that the cloth was soaked in chloroform. And as the first desperate breath for air was finished, the chloroform was in his system.

Sam could feel himself slowing down. His gun clattered to the floor, and though he pulled weakly at the grip, there was nothing he could do. His body was relaxing, going limp, his grip and struggling coming to an end, and with a final sigh, his bulging eyes rolled back in his head and he succumbed to darkness.

The alchemist chuckled as he opened the door to the Impala and threw Sam's unconscious suit clad body into the back seat, his hair falling about his face and his mouth slightly open. And then, he headed inside.

After all, it was his duty as a partner to support his new comrade in times such as these.

XX

"You murdered her. She was innocent, harmless, and you killed her right in front of me." Jacob bit out, his claws clicking together as he flexed them as he walked round to Dean's side.

Dean would have said something then, but paralysed as he was, all he could do was make desperate grunting noises in his throat. He then felt a shadow pass over him and if they could have his eyes would have widened in shock as the alchemist strolled in, chuckling darkly.

"Your brother didn't put up much of a fight." He taunted and Dean made a grunting noise of anger, which was then cut short as Jacob slapped him, his claws cutting into Dean's cheek, making him growl in pain.

"I had nightmares about you, ever since it happened. This horrible, evil man who took my mother from me. You gutted her like a fish simply because she was a monster. Well guess what little man? You're the real monster. She wasn't harming anyone, she wasn't attacking innocents, she was attacking scum, all to make me feel better!" he yelled, stabbing his claws down into Dean's stomach and Dean made another growl of exasperated pain, still unable to move.

Blood welled from the four claw marks on his stomach, just as it was trickling down his cheek. Dean grunted in pain as Jacob's eyes narrowed angrily.

"Who do you think you are huh? I did some checking, heard some things. Even your brother thought she was harmless. And you, mr high and mighty, because you're arrogant, you killed her! Murderer!" Jacob screeched, ripping up Dean's chest, making Dean's eyes water with the pain.

"Not to be insensitive to your grief young man, but there are a few shapeshifters who would happily pay for intact skin too." The alchemist said brightly, sitting at the table as if he were watching a movie, but Jacob ignored him and ripped his claws down Dean's leg, and he knew that if he could he would be thrashing and howling in pain.

"What gives you the right?" Jacob stormed, rolling Dean over and sticking his claws into the middle of his back before ripping them down, tearing through flesh and spreading blood all over the bed and walls, making it geyser from him and splatter all over Jacob's face.

Jacob then shoved him over and brought back his claws, clearly aiming for Dean's neck.

"Maybe I should wait a while, let your brother come to the door and watch as I murder his beloved brother, just like you let me watch you gut my mom! What do you say Dean? Or should I kill you now?" Jacob hissed.

Dean's eyes were wide in terror as there was a steely flash and Jacob brought his claws down to end the life of the one who'd ended his mother's.

XX

Sam awoke suddenly, and remarkably didn't even have a headache from the chloroform. Deciding to file that away to worry about later, he clambered out of the car, and pulled out the flamethrower and another gun from the boot before running towards the door.

Skidding to a stop, he got there just in time to see a kitsune slash his claws down towards his brother's neck, so on reflex, he fired a bullet into the kitsune, catching him in the shoulder and sending him staggering from the bed. The alchemist got to his feet, looking at Sam in alarm and was raising his hands to attack when Sam gestured threateningly with the flamethrower.

"Don't try it." He growled, keeping the kitsune covered with his gun.

Dean, covered in blood, made an urgent noise but Sam wasn't paying much attention, he was too busy running a critical eye over his brother's wounds to assure himself they weren't life threatening. Convinced, Sam narrowed his eyes as he looked at the kitsune, and then it suddenly all clicked into place.

"You're Amy's son." He said in realisation and Jacob hissed.

"Yeah. And I want him dead! He murdered my mother!" he spat, and the alchemist looked at Sam smugly.

"Your saintly brother here gutted her right in front of her son." He filled in and Sam sent a look at Dean, who's wide, pain and tear filled eyes conveyed the truth to Sam's disbelieving look of outrage, and Sam felt his heart sink.

It was true.

Sam forced himself to look at Jacob.

"Look, Dean made a mistake. He shouldn't have killed your mom. But, despite everything he is, Dean isn't cruel, or sadistic. If he killed her right in front of you, he didn't mean to. I know he wouldn't have meant to." Sam said stoutly, and Jacob hissed.

"He's the monster, she wasn't! She was picking off scum!" he insisted and Sam nodded.

"I know. Which is why I wanted him to leave her alone. But he was right, and she was a monster who was killing people. I'm not saying he killed her for the right reasons, he didn't. He killed her because he didn't trust her word, or mine when I gave it to him. But she had killed people, and scum or not, she had to be stopped. If I hadn't known her, I'd probably have done it myself." He admitted and Jacob hissed, as if preparing to pounce.

"She wasn't a threat to either of you, we were happy being left alone! She killed to save my life, I was dying and I needed the glands, no other reason! And you blasted hunters came along and tore her from me!" he raged and as one he and the alchemist attacked.

Jacob pounced and the alchemist flapped a hand, sending a charge at Sam but he was already on the move. Praying the flamethrower wouldn't blow up in his face, he cast an arc of fire at the hybrid, who screamed in pain as the combined attack burnt up his extended hand. The flames also forced Jacob into retreat, sending him back to his side of the room, and Sam looked at the kitsune directly.

"Look, you don't want this. If you kill Dean, you'll become as bad as he is. Then I'll want to hunt you down for killing him. And it will just keep going and going until we're all dead. You don't really want that kid. You're a nine year old kid! You would still be a nine year old kid if it wasn't for this creepy plumed bastard here. You're not a murderer, no matter how much you want to be, you aren't. So, why don't we settle this ok? The alchemist can turn you back to normal, he can even keep you if he wants, and we'll leave you to it and you'll leave us to it. Is this really worth dying for Jacob? See, I really don't want to kill you. I really don't want to kill a kid. But I promise you, no matter what else happens if you kill my big brother I will kill you. And your friend here too. Do you really want that?" Sam asked bitterly, aware of his paralysed brother lying on the bed.

Jacob then hissed angrily, readying his claws and Sam raised his weapons warningly. And it was then that the alchemist struck, flapping his arms. A strong gust of wind then blew Sam into the air, sending him crashing against the wall and slamming him down on his brother, making him drop the flamethrower. Jacob then leapt, his claws going for Sam's neck. Sam rolled onto his back, just in time to crash his feet into Jacob's chest and send the kid crashing back against the wall. Dean made a grunt of displeasure beneath him as the alchemist attacked, flapping a jet of fire at him, but Sam had already cleared the bed and had the flamethrower in hand. Casting a wreath of fire at the hybrid, Sam turned in time to avoid losing an eye as Jacob's claws raked down his face. Gasping in pain, Sam struck upwards, knocking the kitsune off balance before he punched out, taking Jacob off his feet and sending him tumbling off the bed.

The alchemist then began to use his sonic attacks, trying to knock Sam out, but Sam fired several bullets at him, forcing him to the floor and taking his attack away from Sam. Jacob then leapt back over, claws going for Sam's throat, but then another gust of wind hit the two of them, and to Sam's surprise, it seemed to be more directed at Jacob.

The alchemist was then on the move, flapping his arms and covering the room in a single bound, before grabbing Jacob's arm. The kitsune looked at him in betrayed shock, but the alchemist ignored him and flapped again at Sam, knocking him back onto Dean's bed with a gust of wind. Then, ignoring Jacob's yells and desire for revenge, they vaulted over the bed, trampling Dean on the way past. Sam got to his feet and fired several bullets, but the alchemist had already shoved Jacob out of the door. He then made the same scream as the night before, making Sam convulse with the effect and as the spasm came to an end his eyes rolled and he collapsed unconscious onto his brother. Satisfied, the alchemist then fled, hopping into the car with the spitting Jacob and drove off, leaving Sam unconscious on his paralysed brother's chest.

XX

"Why'd you take us away, we could have killed them both!" Jacob raged and the alchemist glared as they drove away from the motel.

"Not without severely damaging the goods or getting ourselves killed we couldn't have." He replied curtly and Jacob glared.

"How did Sam recover so quickly?"

"As to that I have no idea. You will have your vengeance my boy, but we must be patient. An opportunity will present itself I'm sure." He soothed as he drove away, his thoughts on Sam's escape from the chloroform.

XX

By the time Sam awoke, Dean had regained the use of his fingers and toes, and his tongue. Sam groaned as he awoke, shaking his head blearily and he heard his brother sigh in relief.

"Sam!" he exclaimed and Sam got to his feet, cursing and swearing.

"Bloody alchemist, I'm going to turn him into a KFC." He vowed bitterly, rubbing his head to try and alleviate the pain.

He then looked intently at Dean, noting the deep gouges in his body.

"Sam?" Dean asked gently, and his brother grunted in irritation.

"You need the hospital, they're not life threatening but they're too deep for me to fix." He said, and Dean was rapidly getting the feeling that his brother was less than happy with him.

"Sam..."

"You really did kill her in front of him didn't you?" he asked weakly, and Dean gave a sigh, but figured lying about the entire Amy thing was partly what had brought them into this mess in the first place, so he may as well come totally clean.

"I swear Sam, I had no idea he was there. It's like you said, I would never have killed her in front of him, I wouldn't do that to a kid you know that." He said and Sam closed his eyes.

"You don't get it do you?" Sam asked, rubbing his temples to try and dispel the headache before he helped his brother.

Dean glowered.

"I get that I'm getting pissed off of being paralysed and being stuck here. And it isn't all I'm getting pissed off with." He said warningly, and Sam groaned.

"Dean..."

"Look Sam, she was a monster! One of the abominations its our job to kill! She had killed people, they might have been scum but she had killed them. I did what you should have done in the first place, and if you had, we wouldn't be in this mess." He snarled, and Sam glared down at his brother.

"I didn't mean that you jerk. I meant that by killing her in front of him, even if you didn't mean to, you basically convinced him that it's his fault that someone he loved died. And we both know how much that sucks, don't we?" he asked in a falsely sweet voice and Dean recoiled a little bit. He hadn't thought about it like that.

"Sam, I..."

"Dean, you might have killed her for the right reasons. I don't know. I trusted her, and I trusted you, and you went behind my back and killed her anyway. Which is bad enough but you did it right in front of her kid!"

"I didn't mean to Sam! I wouldn't do that! Look how fucked up we were because we lost our mom, look what it did to dad! And to you, when you found out it was basically your fault mom died, I wouldn't wish that on anyone!" he yelled, feeling incredibly stupid as he was basically lying down and yelling at his brother, who could still move.

And then a second later he felt even more stupid as he realised what he had just said.

"Exactly. And if you wanted to or not, you did that to that kid, made him feel responsible for the death of his mom. And believe me, that feeling really sucks ass." Sam bit out, and Dean groaned tiredly.

"Sam, you know I would never kill her right in front of him, to do that I'd have to be even more fucked up than I am already. But the point is, if you had the guts to kill her when you found out she was killing again, you should have been the one to kill Amy, not me, but no, because you cared about her, you let a dangerous monster live!" Dean bellowed, and Sam glared down at him, arms folded.

"And now you're doing the exact same thing, and what's worse you expect me to be alright with it!" he snapped back and Dean made a noise of exasperation.

"Benny is completely different, he hasn't killed anyone!" he yelled, and Sam scoffed.

"Yeah, so how come he wound up in Purgatory in the first place?" he asked and Dean rolled his eyes.

"You're determined to hate him!"

'Because you taught me to! All this is my fault because I didn't have the guts to kill a monster, and now her kid is trying to kill us both because you cleaned up my mess. And eventually, the exact same thing will happen with Benny, you won't kill him and I'll have to because its how our screwed up lives work Dean! We meet a monster, become friends, they betray us, we have to put them down! I asked you to trust me with Amy, and you didn't. If that was right or not, I don't know. But considering the mess we're in now, I don't think so. If you'd trusted me, we might not be in this situation either. And I'm sorry Dean but I can't trust your new vampire bff simply because he's a bloody vampire!"

Dean growled in annoyance.

"Look Sam, hate Benny all you want. And I'll admit, I brought this down on us by killing Amy, but I didn't know the kid was there! And maybe if I'd trusted you we might not be in this mess either, but that doesn't change anything! The fact is, it happened the way it did and now we have to deal with it." Dean snapped curtly, clearly ending the argument, but Sam wasn't done.

"Why didn't you?" he shot at Dean, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sam, save the twenty questions and help me up!" he roared and Sam sat him up quickly, his anger directing his actions and Dean wobbled a bit as he was suddenly upright.

"Why didn't you trust me about Amy?" Sam intoned, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Because she was a monster Sam! And besides, you were batshit crazy, I thought you'd lost it, so I killed her for you! But you're right...I admit it. I shouldn't have killed her. I should have trusted you, insane or not. But I didn't want her coming back and biting you in the ass so I cleaned house, and it just shows our crappy luck that her dumb kid had to be watching when I did it. Count your blessings I didn't kill him too." He muttered darkly and Sam shook his head, not believing what he had just heard.

"And there it is. Guess we're both more like dad than we thought we were huh?" he asked darkly and Dean growled, and Sam knew full well if he could use his hands, Dean would hit him.

"Yeah, but he was right about monsters. We don't keep them as pets Sam. She was a threat to you, so I killed her. And now we're going to have to kill her son too, because he's now a threat to us as well, all because you and I couldn't do our jobs."

Sam arced an eyebrow.

"And that brings us back to Benny. I won't kill him, because you don't want me to. See I actually do trust you even if you don't trust me. But he will come back and bite us in the ass, because that's what always happens, and when he finally kills someone it will also be because we couldn't do our jobs." He concluded, and collected the weapons, while Dean rolled his eyes furiously.

"You know, I am so sick of your judgemental attitude! Benny was there for me when you weren't because you couldn't cope! I had to struggle to survive on my own, because you failed me again, and Benny is the only reason I'm alive today. What was Amy to you huh? Not even a one night stand and that automatically makes you an adequate judge of her character?"

"And a five minute meeting before you gutted her made you her jury and executioner." Sam retorted cleverly.

"Call me what you want. Do I regret killing Amy? Yes, but only because now its still royally biting us in the ass. I'm fed up of you second guessing the decisions I've made just because they don't match with your precious morals. You didn't have that many yourself a few years ago because you wanted back at Lilith for taking me from you. I lied to you about Amy, yeah that was a cowardly move. And I should have told you about her kid too, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess if I had. But I won't apologise for killing her. Regret it, yeah, but apologise, no. I'm sick of you second guessing me, of sitting back and criticising all the hard choices I've had to make, either because dad, or bobby, or Cas or most of all you forced them on me. Because for someone who complains about the stuff I do a hell of a lot, you still don't get that I'm not perfect. But, whatever you might think of me for it, I won't apologise for killing Amy because I did it to protect you, just like I do everything. So call me a monster if you want Sam, but don't you sit there and judge me for doing my job." Dean fumed, and then he heard Sam's quiet voice.

"I don't think you're a monster." He said, and with that, picked up their weapons, hoisted his brother's arm over his shoulder and virtually carried him to the car.

He then propped Dean against the car and stored the weapons, and then, despite their anger at each other, Sam gently lowered Dean into the car, neither of them looking at one another. After making sure his brother was safely inside, Sam took them to the hospital, the journey passing in silence, as both brothers mulled over what they had said to each other.

**Did you really think the boys had stopped arguing?**

**Not quite yet I'm afraid but they got through most of the chapter without an argument other than their usual bickering but that's allowed their brothers. But unless I miss my guess that's the last argument but of course I could be wrong you never know.**

**Someone is trying to undo the Perpurigo but who and why? Just what is going on with the shadowy group?**

**I'd forgotten how much fun it is to torture the boys (sadistic i know), and poor sammy seems to be getting the majority of the bad phyiscal treatment. Knocking him out six times in two chapters does seem kind of extreme doesnt it?  
**

**I tell you, the alchemist has some bloody weird customers doesnt he? All offering vast sums for things of the boys, all of them part of their actual bodies...weird. One of the buyers may turn up in some other form later on, possibly two but thats only if i make the other one a buyer and not just a pain in the ass.**

**So, we have two chapters left! The soldier of the Perpurigo is getting closer to the boys, but first we have Jacob and the alchemist to deal with. Well done to babyreaper, who once again figured out the villain (though its a bit unfair to be calling him that) before id written it. Oh and in case any of you disapprove of Sam just leaving Dean lying there to yell at him, there are a couple of reasons. One I reckon he would be genuinely shaken to learn his brother killed Jacob's mother right in front of him, however accidentally, because no matter what, he always seems to believe the best in him. Secondly, he probavly hoped that by keeping him lying there he might be listened to for a change, and thirdly, he is his little brother and a small part of him would enjoy it after finding out he was in no immediate danger.**

**Anyway, so next time we have a confrontation, the Perpurigo gets closer to the boys and Sam makes an unexpected request.**

**But until then, as always, please read and leave lots of review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural (or Teen Wolf which is the only show I've got to watch at the moment, damn hellatus!)**

Past Sins

Agent Deborah Tyers of the FBI was sitting, bored at her desk. In charge of what seemed to be a long defunct team of operatives, she and the two other people in her team were meant to be on permanent watch for any of a specific set of criteria that flagged up in their computer.

At first, she had been filled with excitement about her new job. After a shoot out with a suspect had gotten too close for comfort, and had landed her in hospital for six weeks, she had been looking for a job that wouldn't immediately take her back into the field. And so, when she had returned to work and had been assigned with two other agents, both with specialism in many weapons and a reputation for solving the so called 'freaky' cases, she had initially thought she and her new colleagues had been headhunted for a specific mission portfolio.

It had looked even more important when the new team had been summoned right into the office of Director Mueller and told what they were to do. But now, it was over a year later, and nothing had happened at all.

She knew it had something to do with the mysterious events of just over a year ago. Two men, brothers called the Winchesters, had gone on a killing spree and had been linked to several other crimes. An FBI agent by the name of Reynolds had tried to bring them in, but a serious of bizarre events had prevented him from doing so. She had read all the files from that time, and from the time of Reynold's disappearance and the end point of the files which apparently pronounced the Winchesters dead, weird things had been happening, deaths reported hadn't happened, police were massacred within their own station, high speed chases, freak storms, even a suspected terrorist bombing, all linked in with whatever it was that had happened with the Winchesters. And so, after Reynold's death was confirmed along with the deaths of the Winchesters, Mueller had had her group basically acting as a form of paid surveillance, keeping an eye out for any flags in any system, for what were known aliases and actions of these mysterious Winchesters. However, nothing had happened for more than a year, the other two agents had been reassigned and she was left, whittling her life away, stuck at her computer looking for any sign that dead men still existed.

She had tried to talk to Mueller, but he insisted that he had a feeling that the Winchesters were not in fact dead. She had to admit, he had every right to believe that. After she had read all the files of the months leading up to Reynold's death, she had read all of the files that the FBI had gathered on the Winchesters, and they made for highly interesting if highly frustrating reading. The files were mostly classified, with only the barest bones of reports available to her as she tried to research her quarry. It seemed that the two boys had been on the FBI's radar for years, only to vanish for extended periods of time. Another agent other than Reynolds, called Henriksen, had mysteriously died after contact with the two brothers, Reynolds had suffered much the same fate as had a further agent by the name of Valente. What was more, she just didn't understand why the hell these files were classified, and she had used all of her considerably resources to try and break the lock so she could find out just what was going on. But, whatever their files truly contained, it had clearly been classified by the highest level and nothing she did seemed to break the lock.

So now, a year later, sitting here staring at a screen day after day, looking for any sort of hint that her job wasn't the dullest one in existence, her screen as blank as it had been in the last year. Other agents were out protecting the nation, monitoring suspects, keeping an eye on suspected illicit activities, she was stuck here looking at a computer screen for the rest of her working life.

And it was as she was about to embark upon another mental rank about the unfairness of the situation that the computer suddenly pinged to life, and for the first time since she had begun this job, she could actually feel excitement rising in her.

And as she looked, her face, for the first time in over a year, spread into a massive work related smile as she reached for her phone.

"Put me through to Director Mueller." She ordered, and after a scolding from the person on the other end, who said the Director ought not to be disturbed unless it was a matter of national security, she was directed through.

"Agent Tyers, if this is another demand to scrap your job the answer remains no." He said curtly down the phone.

"It isn't that Director. It's just a hospital in Montana had just tripped the signal. A Winchester has been found. A man with what looks to be claw marks and unexplained partial paralysis is currently in the Community Hospital of Anaconda. And according to the flag, it could very well be the ones you're looking for."

She swore, she could virtually hear the smirk of triumph on the director's face.

"Excellent Agent Tyers. Round up the last of your task force, and prepare us a helicopter. We're going to Anaconda." He said smugly and she raised her eyebrows at the phone.

"Wait, you're coming too sir?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes Agent, I am. Now get to it. If the Winchesters have indeed returned, I want to be there on the scene before they escape again. And when we find them, I intend to as them why they've suddenly reappeared on the scene. And why they've been away for so very long." Mueller said in satisfaction.

XX

Dean was sitting up in bed but the doctors were insisting that he had to stay where he was while they found out what had basically paralysed him. This was bad for two reasons. Firstly, Dean really didn't want to stay here, he wanted to get out there and kill the bloody alchemist and stop the kitsune before they got them both killed. He also wanted to escape Sam.

He had probably been naive to think that they had finished arguing.

It wouldn't be so bad, but he knew he had a point. While he could take a vindictive pleasure in blaming Sam for not killing Amy, he knew that their present situation was down to him. Sam had been right. For whatever reason, he hadn't trusted his brother's word and had thrown years of learning that not all monsters were inherently evil even if they killed people (after all, Cas had killed loads and they hadn't killed him no matter how tempting it sounded at times), and had also destroyed his brother's trust in him by killing Amy. Sam had asked him to trust him, and after everything that had happened between them, it had taken years of patience to get them back to their pre-hellhound levels. And Dean had destroyed that by going behind Sam's back. He hadn't done it because he hadn't trusted Sam, but of course that's what it seemed like to Sam, a situation they were still in where it seemed like no matter what Sam did, Dean never trusted him anymore.

He also knew Sam had a point about Benny too. There was every chance Benny would fall off the wagon, they would need to kill him and then he would be left to pick up the pieces of Dean, just like he had tried to do after Cas had betrayed them.

But that didn't change things. He wasn't sorry he killed Amy. Amy was a threat, to the humans who it was their job to protect. So what if she was picking off scum who no one would miss? That didn't matter, she was killing human beings. Killing her was his job as a hunter.

But he was fed up of it all and more than anything he was fed up of fighting with Sam. Sam had screwed up, he had left him to rot in Purgatory and yet he still felt he had the justification to criticise the decisions Dean had taken in order to make sure he was safe. Because that was all Dean had ever been about, his little brother. He knew it wasn't healthy, he knew it wasn't even sane, because after all, Sam was all grown up, and as stubborn and opinionated as he had ever been.

Dean sighed wearily. Sam was basically doing what he always did. Sam was now basically giving him a taste of his own medicine, knowing full well he screwed up and nitpicking everything his brother had done wrong despite his own failings.

Hmm, didn't feel good. No wonder Sam was always so pissed off with him.

He didn't feel sorry for killing Amy. For killing her in front of her child, sure he felt bad. He felt awful. By doing what he did, the brother's own various issues aside, he had basically destroyed Jacob's childhood if not his life. How was he ever meant to move on after he watched his mother get gutted right in front of him? And she had only been killing to save her son from illness, which meant, Dean had killed her because she was a good enough mother to not want her son to die. In Jacob's eyes, she had died for him, because he had gotten ill, it had wound up with his mother dead and staring into oblivion. He had done to him what Azazel and their mother (with a little help from the jackass angels who had revealed it to them) had done to Sam, by basically making him the reason she had died.

Dean mused, his thoughts bordering on depression. He had done what he had done to protect Sam, and he would do that until his dying day, even if Sam didn't appreciate it or didn't even want it. If he could, he would make sure nothing would hurt his brother. He just wished such devotion went both ways because sometimes it sure as hell seemed like it didn't. But, the fact that he had killed Amy wasn't the problem. The thing that was now ripping them apart was the legacy of killing Amy. The mistrust it had signified between Dean and Sam. Dean still didn't truly know why he had killed her. He had basically thrown seven years worth of experience away in killing her and had resorted to his primal instincts by killing her.

She had been a link to Sam, which made her a potential threat. And as he had said the previous night, Sam was attached to her, and also batshit crazy with Lucifer partying in his head all the time, he couldn't know that Sam had made the decision in the right frame of mind or not. So he had acted and had killed her, and here they were, a year later and that one event was looking just as likely to rip them apart as his deal, Ruby, the Apocalypse and his drinking had been prone to do.

It highlighted the mistrust that obviously still existed, at least on Dean's part, for Sam. He wanted to trust Sam. He felt he did trust Sam (his recent slip up with the whole leaving him in Purgatory thing aside) but obviously the damage was etched so deeply onto his soul that he just couldn't move past it. The entire mess also highlighted both their various faults. Sam was angry with him because he had done something that had shown that his brother still didn't trust him, despite all his attempts to atone, but more than that by admitting that he had inflicted such a severe wound on Jacob's psyche he had basically crossed a line in his brother's eyes, a line he would never cross. Sam's comment about him being like their dad had stung. True, their dad probably would have killed Jacob too, and justified it in the exact same way Dean had justified his decision to kill Amy in the first place. But that wasn't how they were meant to work. When Sam had been growing up, he had always been the alternative to their dad, the one Sam came to when their father didn't suffice or was usual with him and Sam, just didn't understand his younger son. Sam, despite all his complaints about how Dean was a pain in the ass and a hypocritical prat with impossibly high standards, Sam was judging him for doing something. But he was coming at it from an entirely different perspective. Or perhaps not quite so different.

He didn't really know.

All he knew was that by killing Amy in front of Jacob, by killing a mother in front of a son, something had changed in the way Sam viewed Dean. Nearly all his life, Sam had only ever wanted Dean to be proud of him. For much of his life, Sam had always looked up to his big brother. He had become something related, however distantly, to the same evil and family destroying actions as Azazel had been to them.

Sam, for reasons best known to himself, still retained the very naive and optimistic view that there was good inherent in everybody. He also still believed, however much he tried to deny it, that he still saw his brother as a hero of sorts. But now, despite his frequent bitter mutterings to Dean that he wasn't in fact perfect, he was now shaken by the concrete proof that his brother wasn't. Sam had many more morals and values than Dean did, other than when he was jumped up on demon blood. And he had found out that Dean had violated one of those morals by his actions with Amy. And now he thought of his brother, not as a protector and defender, like, despite himself, he always had deep down, he now saw him as a murderer and a monster who killed because he couldn't help himself (in some ways he couldn't, but not because he killed killing, because he didn't trust Amy not to harm Sam some time down the line) and damn the consequences.

Dean sighed wearily. He was so sick of all this, trying to understand his brother while justify his own feelings and actions in the entire affair. He was fed up of Sam criticising his decisions, he was fed up of fighting with Sam over them and the decisions he had made, and for the first time he truly understood why that pissed Sam off so much. Sam was criticising something he had done in order to protect him, and because he had violated some unspoken rule of his in the process, it was driving Sam away from him as he had finally crossed a line that Dean didn't think was there to cross. He was driving Sam away from him, just as he was driving Dean away from him. And he was sick to death of it.

He truly wished they could just fix everything, and put everything back to the way it was supposed to be, but this case, and the previous one, they were threatening to break the Winchesters once and for all.

Dean was about to try to get some sleep, his mind buzzing and his expression and mood dour when Sam suddenly barged in.

"Sam, you're the one who said I had to come here the least you can do is let me sleep in peace." He groaned tiredly, and Sam clamped his hand to his mouth. Rather than be annoyed, as he knew he should be, Dean just looked at his brother quizzically, his eye roll signifying he would be quiet.

"You can sleep in the car. We need to leave." He said, and Dean looked at him curiously.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why?" he asked suspiciously and Sam peered out of the room before turning back to his brother.

"I was just talking to chatty Cathy on reception. Apparently, my boss is on the way here, she asked me if I was intimidated by meeting the big white chief." He said, and Dean scratched his head, brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to puzzle out what the hell his brother was talking about.

"I'm your boss." He said lamely, and that truly was the best he could come up with and Sam shot him a condescending look.

"Yeah, you wish. Dean, I flashed my FBI badge to get you seen to and I'm still in the suit. Put it together." He said, his irritation barely suppressed and Dean shot his brother an acidic look as he turned to look out of the corridor as he tried to work it out, he hated having a smarter brother.

And then, the FBI thing suddenly all clicked and the colour drained from Dean's face.

"Wait, Mueller is coming here?" he demanded in shock and Sam nodded grimly.

Mueller, the director of the FBI had been the one to pull all problems with law enforcement off of them the year before when they had been trying to prevent Raphael's cheap rerun of the Apocalypse. However, alerted by their agent friend Reynolds to Mueller's ambitions, which included him basically owning the Winchesters and having them work for him directly, they had faked their death in the final battle with Raphael, Lilith and Valente and had vanished from the radar, something that must have been made all the more convincing with both brothers dropping from sight for a year. And now he was coming here.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think he would still be looking for us, I thought he long would have given up on us but apparently he hasn't. We must have flagged and now he's coming for us again." Sam said apologetically, but rather than feeling irritation, Dean just shrugged.

After all, he could hardly be blamed for thinking that Mueller would have given up on them in the last year when they had disappeared so thoroughly, in Sam's shoes he probably wouldn't have given it a second thought either, just as Sam hadn't.

"Never mind Sam." He said calmly, and Sam looked at him in surprise.

"You're not mad at me?" he asked in shock and Dean shrugged.

"Not really, not your fault he has no life and didn't give up the search after a year. And on the bright side I get out of here." He said, and Sam grinned, and Dean suddenly felt his heart plummet.

"I'm not going to like this idea am I?" he asked and Sam shook his head evilly as he pulled in the wheelchair.

XX

"I'm going to kill you for this!" Dean vowed half an hour later as Sam blazed up the motorway, away from Anaconda.

"Why? I reckon you look quite impressive Great Uncle Clyde." Sam said with a maddening grin as he heard Dean curse and bemoan his very existence.

Upon hearing Mueller was on his way from the FBI headquarters with a team of agents, Sam had quickly made his move, collecting a few things in town to make Dean an effective disguise. He had then assed for the signing out papers of Dean's room rather than his name, and after dressing Dean up and thrusting him into a wheelchair (Sam learning his brother knew the word 'bastard' in multiple languages in the process), he had quickly shoved his brother out of the hospital and now they were on their way, while Mueller would be lucky to be halfway across the country by now.

Dean, dressed in canvas bottoms, tartan slippers, a cardigan and with a woolly blanket draped over his legs, which he still couldn't move, cursed and swore as he took off the skin cap that made it look as though he were bald and the hearing aid Sam had got him (whether as part of the disguise or a subtle hint he didn't know and he had no intention of finding out either) and scrubbed his face of the pasty chalky stuff Sam had applied to it to make himself look older. Snarling angrily, he flung the blanket with his working arms, into the back seat before pulling off the slippers and dealing with the rest of his disguise. While he undid the damage Sam had done, the drive was silent, save for Dean cursing and swearing as he restored himself to normality. He supposed it had paid off, as no one (miraculously), had questioned them on their way out of the hospital or even noticed it was Dean who had been signed out, but that didn't mean he couldn't be irritated with the necessity of it all. Vowing to use their flamethrower on the costume shop Sam had gotten the stuff from when he could, he turned to Sam and prepared himself mentally.

"We need to talk." Sam said first, beating him to it, and Dean nodded grimly.

"Yeah we do. I'd rather we didn't but we do need to. But I tell you, if we get into a fight and you crash my car, I'm going to be pissed." Dean warned and Sam grinned ever so slightly.

"Agreed. You want to go first? Figure it's the least I can do since I played dress up on you." He said, and knowing full well he was receiving a glare from Dean he kept his eyes on the road.

And now that Dean had a chance, he wasn't going to mess this up.

"Alright, here goes. I'm sick of this. I hate fighting with you all the time. And this is proper, serious fighting, not our usual squabbles like we used to have over who was the better shot, or the best looking, or which James Bond is best, this is proper, full out fighting and I don't like it. I know I've not been the easiest person to live with since I got back. I've been treating you like crap," he began, and then he noticed Sam giving him an oddly exasperated look.

"I never said I didn't deserve to be treated like crap Dean, I deserved what you threw at me." He said softly, and Dean shrugged.

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm not going to pretend it didn't suck that you left me in Purgatory. I mean I get why you did it, I really do, it just stinks. Sam, all this, the thing with Amy that got us into this mess, I did it because I care about you. I love you, and I thought she would hurt you, and then it would be with you what you're warning about me, that you would get hurt and I would need to put you back together. So I killed her. I killed her because she was a monster who was killing people, and a threat, and because she was a potential threat to you, because you can be sure that if she went off the deep end it would come back and bite you in the ass. Everything I do is for you Sam, it always was. And you can hate me as much as you want for doing that, but I'm not going to stop. Because no matter what, I'll always try and keep you safe and that includes from Amy."

Sam looked at him sadly.

"I don't hate you Dean. All of this is because of Amy, and because you're a relentless, two faced unappeasable nag." He said, but took any potential sting out of his words with a small grin and Dean cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh I'm a nag? You're the one who's always telling me not to eat fatty foods and stuff." He said grumpily and Sam shrugged easily.

"Is it really so bad I don't want my big brother dead by the time he's thirty four." He said, and Dean thought about it.

"I am thirty four." He complained and Sam looked at him earnestly.

"Exactly. We have enough crap trying to kill us without your diet joining in. Anyway, this all began because I abandoned you. And you can hate me as much as you want for that, I deserve it, I know I do. Rage at me, hate me, I don't care I know I deserve it. But the mess we're in now is because you didn't trust me, when I was stupid enough to believe you actually did trust me again. I see now that I've screwed up so many times you'll never trust me again, especially since I left you in Purgatory. And I know I've been a pain in the ass about Amy. It just meant so much when you said you trusted me back then and then it seemed like you didn't because you killed her. And now I found out you still didn't tell me everything. For what it's worth, when I was trying to reason with Jacob I didn't mean to say you were a monster or a murderer. You're a killer but so am I. I don't think you're a monster. And the comment about you being like dad, I'm sorry for that too. I was angry you still had been keeping stuff from me about it. And before you start wondering, I do appreciate you do for me. I know you only want to protect me. It's all you've ever done. And a pain in my ass sometimes though it may be, it is kind of cool that after all this time and everything that we've done to each other, you still do it." He said softly and Dean grinned despite himself.

"I know you didn't mean that Sam. And you're right, I should have told you about the kid. I figured you were mad enough at me at the time without adding that in too. And...thinking about it logically, I'll admit there's a good chance you might be right about Benny. I'm not saying you are, but there's a chance one day you might be. Because, despite how much he helped me and how much I owe him...you're right, and deep down I know it. He's a vampire and like you said, the monsters we befriend have a habit of coming back and biting us in the ass." He admitted reluctantly and Sam looked at him sadly.

"I just don't want to see you getting hurt again." He said kindly and Dean smiled at the earnestness in his brother's tone.

"I know you don't Sammy." He said knowing that despite everything his brother still wanted him to be alright just like he always wanted.

"And I know I judge you..."

"But I do it to you so I suppose it's only fair. And by the way, it is really annoying." Dean said in exasperation and Sam grinned.

"Welcome to my world. So can we promise to put all this behind us? And I mean really behind us, not on the back burner so you can throw it back at me when I least expect it?" he asked and Dean shrugged.

"I don't know if I can promise that Sam. Because there is still some stuff I still haven't sorted through. And I know that some of the stuff I've thrown at you since I've come back you thought I'd moved on from but I don't know. I'm not going to pretend the Purgatory stuff doesn't hurt, because it does. I'm also not going to pretend that I don't like the fact that you don't trust Benny, but I do get it. So, yeah. I mean it's not forgotten, and let's face it, it's me so it most likely won't ever be, but I swear I'm not going to try to hold it against you Sam. You've screwed up badly before, a lot, but so have I, in fact the mess we're in now shows how badly I've screwed up. So yeah. We can move past this, just like we always do." Dean said, and Sam eyed him, and seeming to accept that that was the best he was going to get, he turned his attention back to the road.

"Speaking of said mess, how the hell are we going to get out of it? Not only do we have Jacob and that damned alchemist after us, now we've got Mueller back on our case too despite everything last year." He grumbled and Dean nodded.

"You're right. Alright, let's deal with Jacob and the alchemist first, Mueller can wait for now. Ok, I'm out. How do we deal with them?" he asked, and Sam frowned.

"They both want us dead, that much is obvious. But, and I know you're not going to like this, but we can't kill Jacob." Sam said hesitantly and Dean groaned.

"Damn it Sam, I knew you were going to say that. Can we at least kill the alchemist? The bastard's auctioning parts of us off on the black market." He complained and Sam smiled grimly.

"Yeah, he has to go. But Dean, Jacob's different."

"Sam, at the risk of making us argue again, he's a monster, and not only that but he's a monster who wants my head on a plate. We can't leave him alive, he's too dangerous." Dean said patiently but Sam, being who he was, shook his head stubbornly.

"No, we can't kill him. Dean he's just a kid, we can't kill him." He insisted and Dean sighed wearily.

"A kid in an adult's body, who has proved himself more than capable of murder. Sam. The kid's a threat."

"So are you." Sam said quietly, and he looked at him incredulously.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded and Sam looked at him earnestly.

"Dean, think about it. Jacob was just a kid, a kid who watched his mom get murdered right in front of him. Don't you get it? He's you." He pointed out and Dean stopped up short.

He hated it when Sam was right. Because from a certain point of view, Jacob was really quite like him. They had both watched their mother's die due to some evil, at least from their point of view, killing her and taking her from them. He knew Sam wasn't implying he was in the same evil league as Azazel but he was making Dean see that there wasn't a clear black and white answer to this mess.

"Alright, so what do we do?" Dean asked with a sigh and Sam chewed his lip thoughtfully as they headed closer towards Whitefish.

"I don't know, but we've got a while to figure it out." He said, the beginnings of a plan starting to come to his mind.

But one thing was for sure, Dean wasn't going to like it.

XX

The Ancilla looked around, searching the motel for any sign of his prey. They had already left, and they had also left the hospital. But now, the soldier of the Perpurigo could tell that his chase was coming to an end.

According to Lady Ember's intelligence, the Winchesters maintained a cabin here in Montana that had once belonged to an ally of theirs. But he also knew he wasn't the only one who was pursuing the Winchesters. A kitsune and an alchemist were also after them. So, if he intended to ensure their untimely demise, he would have to hurry.

So, pulling his hood up to once again cover his face, he left the motel, ignoring the corpse of the owner who had tried to stop him going in as he did so, determined to locate his prey.

And so, fingering the quarterstaff that was the weapon of choice for his rank, he allowed himself a grim smile.

For soon this chase would be over. And he would finally earn the promotion he had desired for so long.

And the price would be the bloodied bodies of the Winchesters.

XX

"Sir?" Tyers asked hesitantly as she got off the phone with the hospital and Mueller allowed himself a grim smile.

"Let me guess, the Winchesters have vanished from the hospital." He said tightly as they passed over Chicago.

"Yes sir, apparently they were somehow alerted to the fact that we were after them, and since then, they have escaped." She admitted bitterly and he gave them a slight chuckle.

"Sir?" the youngest member of the group, Lyle Tomas, asked hesitantly, wondering what the director found so funny.

"It doesn't matter you see? We have their scent now, and we will catch up to them. I suspect they're most likely still in Montana, and at the very least, the hospital may be able to help us track them. The net is spread, we will catch them again." He said surely, and the other member, Fiona Grayson, looked at him curiously.

"Sir, may I ask what's so important about the Winchesters? Why are their files so classified?" she asked and he smiled.

"I assure you agent, that when we catch up with them, I will be able to tell you everything. Until then though, you have your mission. Suffice to know that the Winchesters are people I desire very greatly, and it is down to you three to give them to me. They are involved in something that is most important, and I want them to do something for me. And if that means we need to pursue them across the country, then so be it." He said darkly and the agents all looked at each other with interest as they speculated about what could be so important about the Winchesters that it would bring their director out into the field with them.

XX

With a scream, it looked to where the source of light had once been. It was no longer there, the red light that had so given it hope. Despite that though, it still had hope. It had heard a voice, not the voice of its captors, it was kinder, deeper, it made it want to trust whoever was speaking. This voice claimed it would soon be free. And so, as it curled up against the next torrent of abuse as its bored captors moved in, it kept the faint burning hope alive.

That one day it would indeed be free.

And then it could get its revenge.

XX

The vision had changed. A year before, the vision had involved planets, battles, wars, rivers of blood and pillars of flame, with the Winchesters in the centre of it all.

Now, in place of that, she could now only see dark shadows and half seen foes looming at her from the mist of ignorance. Something was going on, an unseen force was setting itself against the Perpurigo. And even though they had an elite army that numbered in their thousands and the various Council members were incredibly powerful in their own right, something about these half seen visions scared her. She had been seeing for millennia, and never before had she had a problem like this, when she was unable to basically predict tomorrow's weather if it was in any way linked to the Perpurigo.

Niandra scowled. She had informed Seraphim and the other two leaders, but none of them seemed that bothered. They were just assuming she was having an off day. But this was more than that. She could feel it in her bones, this was the beginning of something massive.

And she couldn't help but feel it could very well be the beginning of the end.

She was scared and she knew it. Not being able to see properly made her jumpy, there was no reason to believe that this could be a sign of an approaching calamity. But she couldn't help but get the vision she'd had the year before out of her head, the one that showed a titanic battle, surrounded by blood and flame, mixed with a rising shadow.

But now, she couldn't even envision that which she had seen before. Something was behind this, it had to be.

And as she pulled herself back into her vision state, she couldn't help but feel someone, or something, was watching the Perpurigo, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

XX

"You know it makes sense." The voice, so slow and seductive, but so logical, said, and the one listening looked at its owner questioningly.

"But it will be dangerous. To do what you suggest, it will weaken the entire group. We've already failed in our mission twice before, and this time we can afford no foul ups." The listener said earnestly, and they received a gracious nod in return.

"You're quite right. But the Perpurigo has been on guard for so long that they have grown stagnant, their leadership has become unimpressive. But you could change that. You could bring about the dawning of a new age, right the wrongs of this existence. The Perpurigo has power, it only lacks the necessary wisdom to use it to its full potential. You can take over, lead them to a new dawn and remake the world. The great battle would end, your mission fulfilled. You could bring peace, and by so doing, do everything you ever wanted to do." The speaker whispered in his seductive voice, and their audience looked at them before nodding hesitantly.

"I will think on what you have said. But we are stronger together." The audience said chidingly, leaving the room.

And the orator then removed the Serpent's Tongue from their mouth, their glimmering disguise falling into nothing. A small golden band in the shape of a snake's tongue, despite its small size it was one of the most potent weapons in existence. It fitted into the mouth and attached itself to the tongue, where it could be used for whatever end the user saw fit. A design of Lucifer's, it had been used to lure angels and humans to the side of the devil for millennia, until they had taken it from those who could be corrupted by it for safe keeping.

And now, it would be used to further the goals of the speaker. Soon, the chosen victim would be putty in their hands, and they would, under the speaker's careful instruction, carry out the various aims of the speaker with the rest being none the wiser. And when the time was right, the victim would attract the attention and the blame, while the speaker prepared to make the final moves of the plan they had been perfecting for so long.

After all this time, it would finally end. Nothing could stop it now. It would all end.

All of it.

XX

"They would already be dead if it weren't for you!" Jacob yelled and the alchemist rolled his eyes, bored with this display.

"And as I informed you at the time, I made the only choice I could. You may very well have killed Dean, but it would have gotten both of us killed in the process. You do realise they are the best hunters in the world? There is a reason the prices for their goods is so high. It is because of how much they've done, and the amount of people they have pissed off. Much older, wiser and stronger creatures than you my puffed up little popinjay have tried to take down the Winchesters and failed, and I had no intention of getting myself fried for your vendetta." The alchemist told him curtly as he cashed up for the day.

"They would still be dead, which is all I want. He killed my mother, and Sam all but brought it down on her by even knowing her. They both need to die for what they did to her." Jacob said brattily and the alchemist sighed.

"And they will child, just not yet. Patience is a virtue. They have both left town by the looks of things." The alchemist commented and Jacob threw a vial across the room, where it smashed into the wall.

"Exactly! And instead of going after them so we can both get what we want, we're sitting here licking our wounds. We need to kill them and we need to do it now!" Jacob raged, making the alchemist glare at him.

"I agree they need to die, I stand to lose a fortune if they don't. But running in is foolhardy. We have threatened both brothers, and despite their squabbles that is still an automatic death sentence. We will go after them, when I saw the time is right, and not before. Am I understood?" he asked and the young kitsune hissed at him angrily, making the hybrid prepare to defend himself, hand raised warily.

"You don't get to call the shots. This is my problem, you're just hanging on because you want to make money. I'll kill them both without your help!" Jacob yelled angrily, barging out of the shop and the alchemist sighed in irritation.

"You'll come back boy. Hmm, actually..."

He ran to the door, and just saw Jacob heading for his car.

"Wait!" he shouted and Jacob gave him an angry look.

"What? I'm going after them, and nothing you say will stop me." He said stubbornly and the alchemist grinned.

"Dean will still be paralysed slightly, more than enough for you to finish the job. But they now know I am a dangerous threat and will be coming in order to stop me. They will be coming here." He said significantly, and Jacob looked at him curiously, the shadows of a grin on his face.

"You think they'll split up?" he asked excitedly and the alchemist nodded.

"I do indeed, it's what I would do. So, we lie in wait. A former hunter ally of theirs lived around these parts, he used to come in to bother me when he had nothing better to do. He lived in Whitefish which is most likely where they are now." He mused and Jacob grinned.

"So, I'll go there, wait for Sam to come after you and move in on Dean. But what if they wait till the paralysis wears off?" he asked curiously and the alchemist shrugged.

"Then return here and we can deal with them together. Now, do not crash my car." He warned, passing Jacob the keys and having a bad feeling about the excited grin on Jacob's face as he drove off.

But, as his protégé drove off, it occurred to him that the first option was the most likely. With Dean out of action, Sam would leave him somewhere safe and leave him to come and deal with his good self.

And here he would be waiting for him.

The alchemist smiled excitedly as he headed back to the shop, he had vials to prepare.

XX

"You aren't going!" Dean yelled from the sofa in front of the tv and Sam, whose head was in the cupboard, pulled it out and gave his brother an exasperated look.

"Dean, we need to stop the alchemist. He's not going to stop until he's got us all cut up and sold off to various buyers." He said in exasperation and Dean, who still couldn't really move his legs, turned to look at his brother as he packed a hunting bag.

"So why not wait until I'm better?" he asked irritably.

Sam sighed wearily.

"Because Mueller is coming here and is looking for us. We need to get out of here sharpish and we can't do it until we deal with Jacob and the alchemist. We also don't know when you'll actually get better, we could be waiting for ages which will give them an advantage, which is why we're doing it this way."

"Yeah and you won't let me kill Jacob." Dean said, only slightly resentful and Sam shot him a patient look.

"Yeah because he's just a messed up kid." He replied and Dean shot him a concerned look.

"Yeah a messed up kid who wants us both dead. How will we stop him from coming after us in a couple of years?" he asked and Sam shrugged.

"No idea, but we aren't going to kill him. Once we take out the alchemist, a lot of his threat will stop anyway, he'll go back to being a kid again." He reasoned.

"Yeah but it will still leave a dangerous enemy out there for us to look over our shoulders for for the rest of our lives!" Dean cried in exasperation, but desisted with the glare Sam was giving him.

"We'll think of something. Dean, I need to stop the alchemist, he's already proved he can take out the two of us, and I don't want to be adorning Crowley's mantelpiece for all of eternity after the bastard sells us. I go in, hard and fast, and take him out, then we worry about Jacob, ok?" he asked, and Dean sighed, frustrated.

He knew Sam was right. The alchemist lived around here and seemed fairly savvy, he was bound to have at least some knowledge of the boys which he could use again them. And with Mueller in town, and the alchemist working with Jacob and directing the kid, he was making him a much more potent threat, one that could potentially kill the two boys if Mueller didn't find them first. And Dean was still mostly immobile from the waist down, and they didn't have time to wait.

"I don't like this Sam, you'll be going into danger alone." Dean said, his last desperate gamble, and Sam shrugged.

"We've already lost to him when we were together. Maybe alone I'll have a better chance." He said, putting a cold box beside Dean's side of the sofa.

"What's this for?" he asked and Sam grinned, revealing the cold beers inside.

"Sam, you're amazing. But I still think this is too dangerous. You'll be going up against the alchemist and most likely Jacob all on your own." He said worriedly, and Sam looked at him sadly.

"Can't you trust me, just this once?" he asked mournfully, hitting him with full puppy dog and Dean sighed and relented.

"Alright fine. And I do trust you Sam it's them I don't trust. You'll be going up against two monsters alone." He said, worry clouding his voice, and Sam shrugged.

"So? Last year I went up against what was basically the Alpha gorgon all alone." He pointed out and Dean narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, but Bobby was with you. Please Sam..."

Sam looked at him in frustration.

"Dean! I have to. It's the only way you'll be safe, if I stop him. I need you to be safe. I'll be ok, I promise." He assured his brother who still looked at him worriedly.

"Sam..."

"Dean, I've screwed up enough recently without adding this to the list. You can't fight. We have two monsters after us. I have a chance to take even one, if not both, of them out and stop them before they come after us again. Which means I kind of need you to stay safe while I worry about them. Please? Just trust me on this, I'll be fine ok?" he asked quietly and Dean nodded.

"Alright." He said, not really having anything else to say.

He knew Sam was right, the threat had to be dealt with and what was more, he was no use to anyone in his present situation. But the potential for so much to go wrong was there, and despite everything, he didn't want his brother getting hurt. Which, he mused, was ironic as that was the same thing that was driving Sam.

Sam then looked at him nervously, as if waiting for him to continue, and a second later, he did, unable to keep it in.

"Sam, you'll be outnumbered, they might kill you!" he cried in frustration, but Sam merely shrugged.

"I know they might. But provided you're safe, I don't care." He said, and Dean was taken aback by the sheer frankness in his brother's tone. Sam clearly didn't care about his own death if Dean lived. How could Dean have ever doubted how devoted Sam was to him?

"Alright. I know why you're doing this, and I know you're one of the best hunters in the world," he said, and grinned slightly as Sam cleared his throat pointedly, "alright, the second best hunter in the world, but please, just be careful huh? I just got back, I'm not losing you to these guys." He warned, and Sam nodded.

"Deal."

Dean sighed, looking up at his brother, feeling helpless. He hated being so useless, he wanted to help Sam, to hunt these bastards with him, but still virtually paralysed from the waist down, he was of no help to anyone.

"Dean..." Sam began hesitantly, and Dean shook his head.

"No you don't. You are coming back. You are not going to die ok?" he bit out and Sam nodded.

"I promise I won't. But I think we both know that I've broken promises before." Sam said softly, and Dean shook his head.

"Forget it Sam, it doesn't matter. You're coming back." He said determinedly, and Sam nodded.

"I know. But, before I go, I want you to call Benny." He said, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion.

He waited all of a second.

"Sam, what the hell? I don't care if you _think_ you might die, because you won't, and if you think I'm calling Benny here just so you can kill him before you go off to risk your life, think again." Dean yelled and Sam looked at him with a bored expression when he was done.

"You finished? I don't want you to call him here so I can kill him. I want him here to protect you." He said, and Dean looked at him in shock.

"Wait, you're leaving Benny in charge of me? You don't trust him and you're trying to leave me alone with him?" he asked in disbelief, and Sam nodded.

"You're right, I don't trust him. But before I go, I need to know someone here can look after you, someone who can protect you who knows what they're doing in and out. Believe me, he isn't my first choice. But Garth is in New Mexico and Jody, Marion and Missouri, a, don't know we're back yet, and b, don't know enough to protect you properly. I need to know you're safe. And you trust Benny with your life. After all, he's a better brother than I am. So call him ok? If I screw up, or if one gets past me, I need to know you'll be safe, that he'll get you out. So please, just call him ok?" he asked softly, and Dean looked up at his brother in disbelief.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His brother, who made no secret of the fact that he wanted Benny dead, was telling him to call the vampire simply so he would be safe while Sam went hunting.

"You'd really trust him with me?" he asked, still not quite believing what he was hearing.

Sam shook his head.

"No Dean. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, he's a vampire. But you trust him, and I trust you. And if he really is your 'brother' then he can prove it by guarding you. But I swear, you so much as break a nail, I'm putting the bastard down." Sam said warningly, hoisting the bag.

"You really want me to call Benny?" Dean asked in surprise one final time and Sam made a noise of irritation.

"No, I really want you to be safe, and Benny, for all his flaws, will apparently keep you safe. He's your brother after all." Sam said and headed for the door, but Dean, who still hadn't made a move to get his phone, raised his voice to stop him.

"Sam..." he began, and his brother turned to him, eyes bright and sad but he wasn't crying, though Dean suspected the various wounds he had inflicted on him while under the influence of the spectre, by basically saying a monster was a better brother than he was, were still tormenting Sam, even if he felt that was true.

"When I said Benny was a better brother than you, I meant it." Dean began and Sam's eyes looked even more downcast, and it was just noticeable, a tiny tremor of Sam's lip as it shook.

And then Dean grinned.

"But while he may be a better brother, you are still the best little brother." He said kindly, and if Sam were a dog, he was sure his ears would have just perked up, his face certainly had as he looked at his brother with a kind of cautious belief.

"Really?" he asked hopefully and Dean nodded.

"Yeah. Be careful ok? I'll stay here and watch Dr Sexy MD, there's a marathon on one of the channels." He said, trying to hide the fact that he was terrified that this might be the last time he saw his brother.

Sam grinned.

"I will be careful Dean. You too. And call Benny." Sam ordered before heading for the door.

"Don't die bitch." Dean warned, and just hearing their traditional insult made Sam's grin threaten to crack his face.

"I won't jerk." He replied and he could hear Dean laughing as he left the cabin.

XX

Jacob was just entering Kalispell when he happened to look across the road to see a very distinctive car heading the other way. The Impala he had scratched a few nights before.

He grinned. There was no way Sam would risk taking a half paralysed Dean on a potentially dangerous hunt. And his fox like sense of smell would allow him to track Dean the rest of the way once he reached Whitefish. This was brilliant.

Dean was all alone, and Sam was walking into a trap.

Grinning eagerly, Jacob accelerated.

He had a score to settle.

"Rest easy mom. He'll be dead soon." He promised as he headed towards Whitefish and the end of Dean's stay of execution.

XX

Sam was still grinning as he entered Anaconda. Dean's last comment, along with a return of their familiar banter, had made him the happiest he'd been since he first saw Dean when he had returned. They were back. Slowly and surely they were coming back and becoming brothers again.

Sam was still worried however. He hated leaving Dean defenceless, but he had no choice. They needed to get out of Montana before the FBI showed up and arrested them. Which meant of course, that they had very little time in which to end the threat of Jacob and the alchemist before it was too late and Mueller arrived. And the fact that he had to trust his brother to that damned vampire didn't sit well, but he believed Dean. Dean reckoned Benny was safe, and he trusted Dean. But still, leaving his brother with a murderous vampire who he felt would happily eat Dean, especially when he couldn't really fight back or escape, was just making him uneasy. He simply didn't trust Benny, but he knew that there was no one else. So he was trusting his brother to be right about Benny.

And if he wasn't, Sam would stop at nothing until he slaughtered the blood sucker in the most vicious way possible.

Pushing down his sense of unease about leaving Dean, his thoughts turned to Jacob. The kid was basically easily what Dean or Sam could have become, consumed by revenge for the unfair murder of their mother. What was more, Jacob was only a kid, he was only in his present late teen stage due to the damn alchemist's actions. He couldn't kill a nine year old kid, no matter what he was. But Dean had been right, even if they stopped Jacob, they would still always be in danger because the kid wouldn't stop until he got revenge on Dean for killing Amy. Which meant that the kid wouldn't stop until either he was dead, or Dean was dead. Neither option suited Sam. But how the hell was he meant to convince a young orphan to abandon his quest for revenge?

The kid would remember his mother's murder for the rest...of...his...life...

It finally clicked. Dean, forgetting, the alchemist, it all combined to make the perfect solution. Well not exactly perfect, he would feel awful doing it, and he had criticised Dean for his decision to do the exact same thing, but this was about protecting Dean, and if this was what it took to do that, and to avoid having to kill a fairly innocent kid, then that's what he would do.

That however still left the alchemist to deal with. Whatever else he was, the alchemist was no pushover, despite how he looked. He was clearly dangerous, and wanted both Sam and Dean, well their bodies at any rate, so he could make a fortune selling off various different parts of them.

Which was why he had stopped at the alchemist's house first.

Checking no one was around and arming himself with a gun and the flamethrower, Sam made his way up to the alchemist's apartment, picking the lock and using the long barrel of the flamethrower in order to set off any traps that might be there. Confident he was safe this time (he didn't fancy being knocked out and found by the alchemist without Dean here to help him) Sam entered the room the alchemist had been storing their various bits in, only to find them all in boxes, ready to be dispatched to the various buyers.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. He didn't want to know what people wanted to buy this stuff, but he wasn't inclined to let them. After making sure everything was all present and accounted for, Sam slipped the various invoices and customer lists into his pocket. He wanted to know exactly what was getting sold off and to who, and just who they had to be on the lookout for. And with that done, Sam gleefully loaded the items into the fireplace, and with a few squeezes of the flamethrower, the various things the alchemist had taken from them were burning in the grate.

"Sick bastard." Sam grunted, watching as the small box that was meant to contain his hairs was incinerated, the glass breaking in the flames.

With the stock successfully burned, Sam doused the flames before heading back to the car. He was worried, he admitted it. Despite all his assurances to Dean, the thought of confronting the alchemist and Jacob wasn't one that was filling him with confidence. And the example he'd used, with the gorgon, the gorgon had damn near killed him.

He sighed. He didn't have a choice. He had to protect Dean. He was a hunter, this was his job. Dean was his brother, and he had let him down enough recently, he wasn't going to let him down again. He was going to stop this pair before they hurt his brother again. And if the two were inside, he would wing it. He'd faced off two or more enemies before, he could do it again. He wasn't going to fail Dean again.

He pulled up in the next street down from the alchemy shop. Edging around, he could see light on in the alchemist's store, with shadows on the wall, clearly indicating the presence of at least one of them.

Sam nodded to himself. It was time to put the alchemist out of business, even if he did nothing else. So, edging quietly up the road, and rather thankful no one was around to notice him, he quickly picked the lock to the store and entered, flamethrower at the ready.

And Sam suddenly stopped. This wasn't right. There was definitely someone in here, he had seen them moving, so where were they?

There was a small noise from behind him and Sam span, bringing the flamethrower to bear. The alchemist, grinning maliciously, sprayed something from a can at him, the gas catching him right in the face. Sam made a surprised grunt, as he felt his hands go limp, dropping his gun and the flamethrower to the floor. And then, he realised the truth, he was just as paralysed as Dean was, he couldn't move anything. The alchemist, laughing maniacally, grinned, his face a sinister expression as Sam stood stock still, as Dean had when he had been turned to stone.

And then the cackling alchemist revealed a wet rag from his pocket and clamped it to Sam's mouth and nose. And breathing in by reflex, Sam got a mouthful of the stuff thundering into his system. His tall body swayed and with a slight groan, he started to topple backwards, his wide eyes rolling into his head as he did so. And with a final slam, Sam thudded to the floor, out cold, , limbs askew, mouth slightly open and hair falling about his face as the alchemist laughed gloatingly.

**Yay the brothers are getting back to normal. There is still one last step to overcome and then they are officially back on the same page.**

**But will they even get the chance? Jacob is going after Dean and the alchemist has Sam at his mercy, how will the boys get out of this one?**

**The boys arent the only thing we have to worry about now. Mueller is back on the scene and determined to get the boys for his own ends. And he isnt the only thing, events are on the move. The Ancilla are on the march and we have various foes in the making (the idea actually only struck me today but i think it works). And while Niandra saw various things in her vision in Torn Apart, remember prediciting the future is a difficult business.**

**And just who are our foes? **

**All these questions will be addressed over the course of the arc as we get through it. I know what the next story is, and the third story was once the fourth, and i know a couple of others, but theyre all for the future**

**So, one chapter left to go! How will the boys escape Jacob and the alchemist? What does have Sam have planned? Will Mueller find them? Will the Ancilla catch up with them? The story ends next chapter, and we have a brief cameo at the end of an old friend!**

**So hope you're enjoying this as much as I am writing (sorry this chapter took longer, my aunt kind of messed up the plan as did work yesterday, and ive got it tomorrow morning and wednesday morning too) but that shouldnt stop me starting chapter five tomorrow, aside from work my most pressing concern is making potato salad and watching teen wolf!**

**Right so enjoy, and please read and review, lots of reviews will make getting up at some ridiculous hour tomorrow morning all the more easy, so please, leave lots of reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural**

Past Sins

"Wakey wakey Sam." The alchemist sang cheerfully and Sam groaned at the noise, blearily opening his eyes.

Of course, he was tied up. He was strapped to a chair, his head fasted in place by a large metal collar around his neck that kept him anchored to the back of the seat. His wrists were bound at the back of the chair, a thick rope tying them together. His feet were also tied together, and were further tied to the chair legs.

"You know when I get out of here I'm going to enjoy killing you." Sam vowed darkly and the alchemist chuckled.

"I'm sure you are. Problem is, you won't be able to. You see, I've been doing some calculations. You are definitely the more profitable brother of the two, so Jacob can basically do all the damage he wants to your brother. You are the true prize and I'm not in the habit of allowing profitable lines to run out on me." He said with a sickly grin, and Sam looked at him sceptically.

"Really? Want to tell me how much I'm worth?" he asked.

One it would keep the alchemist busy while he tried to figure out a way out of the mess he had gotten himself into, and two, he was genuinely curious as to how much he would fetch on the markets the alchemist traded in.

"Well let's see. Your blood alone is very profitable, memorabilia collectors, vampires of course, the occasional fallen deity, the odd witch...for the full five or so litres of blood within your body I'm looking at a good million, million and a half dollars." He said musingly and Sam's jaw dropped.

"Really?" he asked, his planning of how to escape temporarily thrown by this unexpected piece of news.

"Oh yes, Azazel fans, Lilith worshipers, Apocalypse sympathisers, the joe blog demon market alone is very profitable. Your brother's is very popular too, don't get me wrong, but considering all the demon blood that once coursed through your veins, and the added incentive of the trace vampire blood from your squabble with the souls returned from Purgatory last year, it's made your blood that little bit more lucrative. Your brother's, having had vampire blood within it and also being the blood of a Winchesters, around a million and a quarter all told." He said, tinkering with various vials.

"And my organs?" Sam asked and he chuckled.

"Oh dear boy, they fetch millions in and of themselves! Creatures that eat hearts and lungs and all that sort of thing are willing to offer millions for each organ. A werewolf said two million for your heart. You boys are a very lucrative market you know. Your eyes are three million a piece, from both of you."

Sam was seriously beginning to consider he was in the wrong profession here, being an alchemist with a catch like the Winchesters had to be a hell of a lot more lucrative than hustling pool, running credit card scams, selling old weapons and selling off some of Dean's CDs when he wasn't looking on ebay.

"But you my boy, that lovely head of hair of yours, that is the clincher. Ten million for every single little hair on your head, all from the same buyer." The alchemist commented and Sam's jaw dropped.

What the hell? Someone was willing to pay ten million for his hair? While part of him was quite smug about this (after all no one would offer ten million for Dean's), why the hell would someone want his hair?

"So how much overall?" Sam asked, struggling with his bonds, and the alchemist, who was plonking away at his calculator, looked very impressed as he read the figure.

"Well, ten million for the hair, six million for the eyes, two million for the heart, brain and lungs, a million for the liver (your brother's will be lucky to make ten grand)," he said, interrupting himself and Sam couldn't help but grin at that, "a million for most of the other major organs... one and a half million for the blood, along with your teeth, glands, vocal chords, tongue, skin, I'm looking at twenty five million for you altogether, your brother comes in around twenty million. You boys are going to make me a very rich man." He said, and then slapped Sam in the face, making Sam gasp in pain.

"Now now, we can't have you trying to escape now can we. Now, where was I?" he asked himself, and Sam scowled, trying to figure out how to get out of this mess.

Lucrative though the market in him related goods was, he had no desire to be a part of it. And what was more, he had promised Dean he wouldn't die and he wasn't going to let his brother down again. The alchemist then assembled several tools, making Sam gulp warily. The alchemist had several lengths of clear tubing, most likely for the blood, but there was a smaller thinner one that Sam had a horrid suspicion he knew where he was going to stick it and didn't like it one little bit. He'd also assembled several cool boxes, with a scalpel on each one, there was also a set of hair clippers, which instantly set Sam's blood on boil as he observed them.

"Now, I would ask that you don't struggle, dissecting you into the various bits and bobs is going to take quite long enough without you lending a hand so be a good chap and let me do my job in peace." He said, and Sam grunted in pain as the alchemist stuck a needle connected to a tube in each arm, and then stuck a further one in the neck. Grunting in pain, Sam watched as the alchemist attached various lengths of tube to each syringe, leading them into vials as blood started to pour from each one into the vials.

"You won't get Dean." Sam vowed and the alchemist clucked his tongue chidingly.

"Silly boy, where do you think Jacob is? He's gone after your brother, he'll kill him and be done with it, and then I'll get to do all of this again." He said cheerfully, and Sam winced as he used tape to hold his eyes open.

Sam immediately felt his eyes begin to water and the alchemist, armed with a dropper, chuckled as involuntary tears started to run down Sam's face as the cool air assaulted his exposed eyes, as blood trickled out of him into the vials. Collecting the tears, he dropped them into a further vial, and decided to focus on something else.

He collected his scissors from the desk, and ignoring Sam's attempts at struggling, he quickly sliced through his red and black plaid shirt, taking care not to damage his valuable skin, ripping the shirt off and leaving Sam shirtless in the chair, bound and at his mercy.

"Now what?" Sam demanded angrily, his eyes stinging, and the alchemist then fetched a small piece of papery looking cloth and stuck it under Sam's armpit.

"What the hell?" Sam demanded angrily, and the alchemist shrugged.

"What, did you think your sweat wouldn't fetch a good price too?" he asked in surprise, pressing down into Sam's armpit firmly, ignoring Sam's wriggling.

After each foray, he would squeeze the cloth, sending a small trickle of sweat into each vial.

"You really are sick and twisted." Sam snarled, struggling once again but the alchemist just shrugged.

"It's a living." He said idly, before forcing Sam's head down and prying open his mouth.

Choking on the fingers the alchemist stuck into his mouth, Sam felt saliva fall in a slow dribble from his mouth, into the waiting vial. This was really getting old. Sam was rubbing his feet together, trying to break his legs free from the tight ropes around his ankles. He had to get free, stop this freakshow bastard and get back to Dean, otherwise Jacob might kill him, and he wasn't prepared to lose his brother again.

"Money money money, lot's of man, in a rich man's world..." the alchemist sung to himself, and Sam was suddenly struck by an idea.

"Now, they always say this doesn't hurt, but doctors are liars and I'm not really a trained professional!" the alchemist said cheerfully, revealing the thin tube and unzipping Sam's pants.

That, quite frankly, wasn't on. So Sam shoved with his back, and the alchemist's eyes widened in shock as the chair toppled backwards, slightly strangled by the collar. The chair thudded down to the ground, sending the bottles of blood crashing to the floor and ripping out the syringes.

"You fool, you're trying to cost me a fortune!" the alchemist spat as Sam glared up at him.

"You're trying to stick a tube up my dick!" he responded angrily, and heard a successful click.

"Yes, everything must go Sam, your urine included. Now, be a good boy, and...how did that come loose?" he demanded in shock, seeing the collar had come undone and Sam, yelling with the exertion pulled upwards and grinned in victory as, despite the pain in the tops of his arms, he pulled apart the back of the chair, freeing his arms from their restraint as he snapped the top of the chair off with his exertion. Of course they were still tied together, but at least he had made progress. The alchemist prepared to knock Sam out with one of his sonic cries, but Sam, now with the advantage, used his momentum to come up and headbutt the aged alchemist in the stomach which sent him wheezing backwards into a desk. Sam then twisted his hands, and with a careful few tugs, he finally pulled free, allowing his hands room to move once again as the rope fell feebly to the floor. Looks like his knots were only strong when his victim actually couldn't move his hands.

The alchemist recovered, aiming a flap of wind at him. The blast caught Sam and sent him crashing into a table laden with goods. Grunting in pain, Sam quickly rolled out of the way of another attack, smirking as the increasingly angry alchemist flapped some fire at him. Gritting his teeth, he stuck his feet right into the attack.

Sam screamed in pain as the flames scorched his bare feet, but he had done what he needed as the ropes binding him were incinerated. The alchemist snarled in fury, about to begin a sonic scream, but Sam, wincing at the pain now burning the soles of his bare feet, shouldered the alchemist in the stomach, throwing him up into the air. The alchemist gave a cry of pain and fury as he slammed down on top of the bottles he had already assembled, making him hiss in pain and annoyance as his profit margin was further cut into.

"I am going to sell you piece by piece, but I'm sure I can cope with the loss of goods from killing you!" the alchemist swore, sending an electric flap right into Sam's bare chest.

Sam shuddered as the blast hit him, but with adrenaline pumping and the alchemist distracted, the attack wasn't as powerful as it usually would be. He seized a hold of the alchemist and threw him into the wall, the old man wheezing with the impact. Sam then grinned challengingly, and started knocking all sorts of items onto the floor. Seeing this, the furious alchemist whistled sharply, dazing Sam and he pounced, flapping flaming wings at Sam's head.

Sam fell to the ground to avoid the attack, kicking up with his burnt feet right into the groin of the alchemist. As the old man staggered back weakly, Sam seized the clipper the alchemist had intended to use on him and stabbed it into the alchemist with all his might. The alchemist cried in pain, and then Sam was suddenly struck by an idea of how to stop the alchemist.

The alchemist then flapped his hands, blowing Sam across the room and smashing him through the wall into the main shop. Sam smirked as he saw his flamethrower and gun, and vaulted towards them, determined to get them before the alchemist showed up.

Sam was then blown across the room into a stand, sending numerous bottles tumbling to the floor and peppering Sam's bare arms with tiny little shards of glass. Sam hissed in pain and then started throwing vials at the alchemist, his hands raised in order to deflect the attacks. The alchemist then gave a piercing sonic cry, making Sam yell in pain as every glass vial and surface in the shop shattered, showering Sam with various shards of glass. Sam got to his feet, struggling against the screaming alchemist, the hybrid's eyes livid as he started sending fiery and electric flaps in his direction.

Sam danced out of the way of two of the attacks, springing over the counter and tackling the alchemist to the ground. He once again stabbed down the hair clipper, right into the alchemist's neck. The alchemist gave a squawk of pain before blowing Sam into the ceiling. Sam grunted as he slammed into it, sending a cascade of dust around him as he thudded back to the floor. The alchemist was then on him, a flap of fire just missing Sam as he rolled out of the way. His body was tiring, that much was clear. He was going to have to end this quickly if he was to survive. And he wasn't leaving Dean at the mercy of a pissed off orphaned kitsune.

Sam tackled the alchemist, throwing him into the wall of the tiny corridor that led to the back of the shop. He then punched the alchemist repeatedly, the old man crying in pain as he did so before Sam finished with a final blow to the stomach. Taking the weakening alchemist off his feet, Sam set about him, hammering down on the weak bird man. The alchemist gave a vicious squawk and cried to try and delay Sam but Sam, wincing with the pain, managed to endure the attack. He then once more took the hair clipped and knocking the alchemist's hand away as he tried to flap at him, Sam thrust the clipper into his mouth and switched it on. The alchemist stopped trying to force Sam off and tried to extract the thick clipper fromh is mouth but Sam slammed his hand down, wedging it tightly inside his mouth.

"It's over." Sam snarled before he yanked the clipper out, leaving the alchemist weak and choking beneath him.

"Hardly." The alchemist snarled, and flapped fiery sparks right at Sam's eyes.

Sam reeled backwards, crying out in pain as the alchemist forced him off, determined to stop Sam. Sam punched up at the alchemist, catching him in the side and crashing him into the wall. He then seized the back of the alchemist's head and slammed his head into the wall, dazing him. Sam slammed him once more before turning tail and running into the shop proper, the furious and bloodied alchemist right on his heels. Sam desperately grabbed the flamethrower, activated the trigger and brought it round in a tight arc, and at long last, he had dealt with his target.

The alchemist screamed as his entire left hand side was consumed by electric fire. Crying and screaming with pain, he fell to the floor and started rolling, trying to put out the flames, and Sam took that as his opportunity to advance. His breath hitching as he stood on his burnt feet, Sam pointed the flamethrower at the weakened and burned alchemist, knowing it was over as the alchemist was giving shuddering gasps of pain.

"You...you've ruined...everything." the alchemist said weakly as Sam pointed the flamethrower right at his head.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. I've no inclination to be sold to any of your clients. Now, you're dying, that much is obvious. Electric fire, the thing a hybrid like you wouldn't be able to stop. But I'm run out of time and patience. Jacob is going after my brother, and I swear, if he hurts him, I will open Purgatory, drag your sorry ass out and kill you all over again." Sam vowed darkly and the alchemist laughed gloatingly, though his cackle quickly gave way to a pained wheeze.

"It isn't my fault your thug brother is a mindless murderer." He spat, and Sam, despite the pain it caused him, took great delight in kicking the dying bird man in the jaw.

"no, but you made all of this possible, and decided to get involved yourself. If you'd stayed out of it, you wouldn't be burning to death so very slowly. Now," Sam growled, seizing the neck of the hybrid, "how do we fix Jacob?"

The alchemist coughed weakly and glared at Sam smugly.

"And what possible reasons could I have for telling you that?" he asked, and Sam dropped his neck, and causally fired a jet of fire into one of his legs.

The alchemist screamed in excruciating pain, no longer to even make his sonic abilities work for him he was in such agony.

"Look asshole, you've sent the damned kitsune after my brother. And you are dying, however this plays out, you lose. So, either you tell me what I want to know, and end your suffering quickly, or you don't and I waste mine and your time by drawing this out. What'll it be?" Sam hissed angrily and the alchemist groaned in frustration before finally nodding.

"Fine! Just end this, I can't bear it!" he roared in agony, and Sam smirked in triumph.

"Good. Now, how do I get Jacob back to normal?" he demanded and the alchemist made a weak crowing sound in his throat and pointed to the till.

"There is a bronze vial in the till, feed him that, he will return to normal." He growled, and Sam nodded.

"Brilliant. And I need other things too, where do I get the supplies?" he asked, pointing the flamethrower threateningly and the alchemist wailed in pain before he answered.

"The storehouse! In the storehouse, through the back. Now, please!" the alchemist cried writhing as the smouldering flames made their way across his chest and up his leg.

Sam readied the flamethrower, after all, he had done as he had said he would, but then the alchemist gave a weak, throaty, pained laugh.

"You'll be too late. By the time you get back to your little cabin, your brother will be long dead. Jacob will kill him!" he boasted, and Sam glowered.

"We'll see about that." He replied and hatefully squeezed the trigger, ending the alchemist's life as he incinerated him.

Sam took a deep breath and hobbled towards the storehouse. Why was he always stripped by their insane enemies? Shivering slightly, he entered the warehouse. He had things to do, and not a lot of time to do them in.

But he wasn't going to let Dean down again.

XX

Sam had been gone for hours. And though he had tried very hard not to, Dean was worrying about him. The phone lay beside him, right in reach should anything happen. But it stayed stubbornly silent, much to his great disgust. So, rather than fret endlessly over his brother's safety, Dean tried stubbornly to try and invest himself in the soap opera he was watching on Rufus' crappy, beat up tv.

It wasn't working though. Every time the long haired star of the show came onto the screen, Dean immediately flashed to his brother and wondered what he was doing, if he was alright.

He knew the reasons they had moved so quickly. They had to leave Montana quickly, before Mueller found them and once he arrived it wouldn't take him long to find the cabin. They needed to be gone before then, and before that, they also needed to deal with Jacob and the alchemist. Leaving potential enemies undealt with had bit them in the ass more than once, as Walt and Roy and Becky had all clearly illustrated the year before. And as Dean was still partially paralysed (he could move his knees and above now, which he deemed to be progress) it did leave it to Sam to deal with the threat.

But the entire thing didn't sit well with him. Sam was trying to protect both of them by dealing with the threats to them so they could leave with ease and not risk the alchemist and Jacob picking up on their trail and following them and potentially leading Mueller to them. But he still wished they had had time to wait before Sam had left alone. Thinking about it, he should have forced Sam to throttle back, but he hadn't, due to Sam being so stubborn (Dean didn't want another argument when they were trying to fix things) and also because he had a suspicion his brother was doing this to prove something to him, that he could be relied upon when it counted, and if he stopped him from doing that, Sam would just think he didn't trust him all over again.

But now, it was pitch black outside, Dean had been up all night aside from a slight doze, and there was still no sign of Sam. He also wasn't answering his phone, which, when combined with the lack of baby brother, all contributed to Dean being in a massive panic. Four hours, three and a half if Sam pushed it, there and back, give him an hour or so to deal with things, he still should have been back over an hour ago. He was just being silly, panicking even though he could do nothing about it, but he was sure something had happened to Sam. And if that was the case, how was he meant to help when he couldn't walk? He didn't care, no matter what it took, he would go after his brother, even if he had to crawl to Anaconda in order to do it.

Dean resolved to try his number one last time around two oclock, when he heard the door open and he sighed in relief.

"Sammy, have you got any idea how worried I've been? You forget how to answer your phone?" he asked, and turned to face his brother.

Only it wasn't his brother.

It was Jacob, his claws out, eyes blue, and before Dean could do anything, the kitsune swung at him and a second later Dean's vision went black.

XX

Dean groaned as he woke up, finding himself lying on the bed, his hands tied to the bedstead. He tried his bonds experimentally, getting nowhere, and had the same situation in his feet. Cursing what had happened, he craned his neck to see Jacob glaring at him angrily.

"Nice of you to join me." The kitsune sneered and Dean looked at him apprehensively.

"Look kid, you don't need to do this..." he began but then, his eyes going their true colour, Jacob leapt onto the bed and raked his claws up Dean's cheek, making him cry out in pain.

"Shut up! You don't get to say anything!" he bellowed angrily, and Dean swallowed.

He was beginning to have very serious doubts about Sam's plan. Mind you this was partly his own fault, but still, this didn't look good.

"Jacob, I-"

Jacob glared down at him.

"I'm going to kill you you know. You get that don't you Dean? That I'm going to kill you? And you know why too don't you?" he asked in a cool, chilling voice and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, because I killed your mother. But I swear, I had no idea that you were there, if I had, I would-"

"Would have what? Shut the door as you took her away from me?" Jacob demanded, stabbing his claws into Dean's leg and Dean was quite glad he couldn't feel them at the moment, because it certainly looked like it hurt.

Dean looked earnestly up at Jacob.

"Jacob, look. I made a mistake. I never should have killed Amy. It was stupid and cruel, and she didn't deserve it." He said and Jacob snarled.

"You're only saying that because I'm going to kill you!" he yelled, punching Dean in the face.

Dean grunted as he turned to face the teenager who was attacking him.

"Won't deny that isn't part of it. I killed your mother because she was a monster, and I thought she would try and hurt Sam." He told her and Jacob snarled.

"She wouldn't try and hurt him, he let her go! Which you should have done!" he yelled and ripped down his chest with his claws, making Dean cry out in pain.

Dean looked at him pleadingly.

"I know what I did was wrong. But we were trained all our lives to kill monsters, and more than that I was taught to protect Sam with all I had, and I've failed at that too many times.

Sam wasn't in his right mind when he let her go, he should have dealt with her himself."

Jacob glowered down at him.

"He did deal with her, he let her go, he trusted her, but you, you're a vicious bloodthirsty monster and you took her from me!" he yelled angrily, ripping another claw mark down Dean's chest as his captive victim cried out in pain, his legs still paralysed and his hands tugging at the bonds they were in.

"You took her from me! You murdered my mother, all because she was saving my life! Do you have any idea what it's like, knowing she died for you? Because of you?" he demanded angrily, and Dean nodded grimly.

"More than you know." He admitted but this just seemed to make Jacob angrier.

"I thought everything was fine, and then I come home to find your murdering ass standing over my mother who you gutted like a fish, like she was some common animal. And then you threaten me, the kid who just watched his mother's murder, and tell me one day you'll come for me too. You're the monster!" Jacob howled, pummelling Dean in the face several times as he vented his frustrations.

The pummelling over, a bloodied and beaten Dean looked up at Jacob, blood pouring down his face and his eye already starting to swell shut. He tried feebly to escape his bonds, but it was pointless and his legs were still paralysed. He was totally trapped, and about to die.

"You ruined my life. You took my mother from me. And now you're gonna pay!" Jacob vowed, and Dean looked at him pleadingly. This was the end, he couldn't escape, Sam hadn't made it, and Jacob had every right to kill him.

"Kill me if you want. Just, don't kill Sam." He begged, and Jacob spat on him in disgust.

"You want me to spare him? After you so mercifully spared me? No way. Both of you die. An eye for an eye Dean. You take my mother, I take your brother, and I take Sam's brother. Because if not for you two, she'd still be alive. You ruined my life, like you took hers. And now, I'll take yours!" he yelled bitterly, tears flooding his eyes as he clamped his long clawed hands around Dean's neck.

Dean gagged as the long claws started to dig into his neck, the hands tightening around his neck. Jacob, his face a mask of hatred, pain and anger began choking Dean hard, determined to exact his revenge upon the one who had taken his mother from him. Dean gasped, his arms pulling at the bonds that were tying him to the bedstead. He couldn't do anything, he was trapped. He couldn't move his legs, his arms were bound and immobile and he had Jacob's hands fasted around his throat. Jacob began shaking his head as he squeezed, Dean gasping desperately for air as Jacob made his head thrash up and down as he was throttled. If he could, his legs would be kicking as he tried to struggle, but completely bound and helpless as he was, he was trapped, his life about to end as he was strangled to death. Dean was taking deep shuddering breaths, blood thundering around his head, his vision beginning to waver as Jacob took his revenge. His muscles were becoming sore as they constricted, his eyes rolling in his head and he could feel his life ending, he was about to die. His tongue was swelling, his breath shuddering, he was never going to see Sam again...

When suddenly his brother, wearing only a tartan blanket for some reason, appeared from nowhere and slammed his shoulder into Jacob, knocking the kitsune from the bed and crashing him to the floor, allowing Dean to take a deep gasping breath as he tried to regain the air he had lost. His brother had come for him, just in time, but he had come. Dean, still taking deep breaths, looked up to see his furious brother standing at the foot of the bed, the blanket falling to the floor as he stood and faced Jacob, who was glaring at Sam as he got back to his feet.

"Keep your claws off my brother." Sam snarled, and Jacob snarled right back at him.

"Why the hell should I? He murdered my mother! He killed her, in cold blood, like the vicious monster he is!" Jacob raged and Sam looked at Jacob, but the anger he had felt at seeing him almost kill his brother was fading, and Jacob was shocked to see that there was a hint of compassion, understanding and kindness in his foe's face.

"I know what he is. But deep down, you're not a killer. You're a kid, whose mom was snatched from him before she should have been. You're just a kid Jacob, you aren't a killer. You hate Dean because he killed your mom. Anyone else would do the same thing. But you hate him for what he did don't you? Don't you see that by going after him the way you have, you've become like what you think Dean is?" Sam asked softly, and Jacob's hard expression faltered ever so slightly.

Dean looked curiously at his little brother, sending him a questioning look, but Sam just shook his head as he turned his attention back to Jacob. He gave Jacob an understanding, compassionate look, and the young kitsune looked at Sam hesitantly, the sort of expression Aimo had on his face when the young angel hadn't understood something.

"See Jacob, you're just a kid. Your mom was killing people to protect you, to make sure you were safe. She wasn't killing for any reason other than that. Which if you kill Dean, you will be." He said calmly, and Jacob glowered angrily.

"I don't care. He took my mom from me, I deserve revenge! I deserve justice, and he," he bellowed, pointing at Dean, who was still looking very confused at what his brother was up to, "deserves to die because he was the one who took her from me!"

Sam shrugged.

"Maybe he does Jacob, but maybe he doesn't. You know, there was once a couple of kids. One night, the eldest of them was only four years old at the time, their mother was killed. And sorry to say Jacob but her death was a hell of a lot scarier than your mom's. Compared to their mom's death, your mom's was peaceful despite it being murder. Their mom was attached to the ceiling, her stomach cut open and then she was immolated by fire, by someone a hell of a lot scarier and a thousand more powerful than Dean. That night, the eldest kid looked up to see his mom being covered in flames on the ceiling. His father handed him his baby brother, who actually only was a baby back then, and told him to run out of the house and not to look back. But either way that kid saw his mother die in one of the most horrific ways possible, and you're right that kind of thing leaves a mark.

Now the boys' father escaped the fire as well. And revenge took over his entire life. He wasn't a dad, he was a commander. He spent his time training his kids to fight evil, not to be kids. He neglected his kids, his friends, his life, all on some insane quest for revenge. He left his youngest son in the care of his big brother, who, while awesome, should never have had to basically raise a kid on his own because their father couldn't. He was so obsessed with revenge that years later, he all but threw out one kid because he didn't want to follow his mad quest for revenge and then he abandoned the one who stayed loyal to him. And through it all, he told his grown up sons, who were quite clearly in trouble and in the thick of it, nothing, which meant they were flailing around in the dark while he kept all his knowledge to himself. And do you know what he did? His last act on earth was to try and screw over the demons he wanted revenge on one more time. He told his eldest son, his perfect little soldier, to kill his younger brother in case he turned evil, and by so doing he hoped to get one up on the demon who had killed his wife. He told his son, who always looked on him as a hero, to murder the one he cared about most in the world. That's what revenge does to you Jacob. It makes you an unfeeling, arrogant monster. I've been there, so has Dean and the one that story was about, our dad, it did it to him too. We get revenge, we really do. But you have to ask yourself, would your mom want you to be a murderer at nine? Would she want you to taint your life just to avenge her? I don't think you're a killer. You're mad and hurting yeah, but you don't really want to kill Dean. If you do, you'll become the very monster Dean thought he was killing when he killed your mom. And then, a hunter will kill you because it's our job. You don't really want that to happen Jacob, because if you only live for revenge, pretty soon you'll have nothing to live for. Stand down. You don't have to kill Dean." Sam said, and Dean had to say, if he was Jacob he'd have been convinced.

And Jacob, who at heart was still just a nine year old orphan, just a child, was looking at Sam with a sort of hesitant trust, and his conviction was shaking. He wasn't really a killer. By aging him, the alchemist had made him more likely to act on his dark desire for revenge, but deep down, he was a kid who had lost his mom and wanted to lash out at the world that had taken something from him.

And Jacob then turned to look at Dean, Sam tensing as he did so, and as Dean looked back, he gave a growl and leapt towards Dean. Sam threw himself in the way, only to be barrelled off his feet by Jacob. Landing heavily, Sam grunted in pain and then gagged in surprise as Jacob's hands wrapped around his neck.

"Sam!" Dean cried in a panic as Jacob began to squeeze.

Sam gasped in shock as Jacob, eyes shining blue and his face snarling, strangled him. Sam kicked his legs feebly, trying to force the teenager off, but he was much stronger than he looked. Shoving at Jacob as he gasped desperately for air, Sam needed a weapon, any weapon because the young kitsune was a lot stronger than he thought. And finally, Sam found Dean's discarded gun. His breath shuddering and eyes beginning to roll, Sam barely grabbed the gun and slammed it with all of his might into the back of Jacob's head, and Sam breathed free air once again as the kitsune dropped like a stone.

"Sammy?" Dean asked worriedly, unable to see anything and panicking about his younger brother.

He then breathed in relief as a heavily breathing Sam got to his feet and looked at Dean.

"Where's Benny, he was supposed to be here, you said two days ago that he was in Idaho." He said accusingly, and Dean winced.

"Sam, uh..." he began, not liking the angry look on Sam's face.

"What?" his younger brother demanded as he tied Jacob up for safekeeping.

"I didn't call Benny." Dean admitted quietly, and for a few seconds, Sam stood there like a stunned fish, gasping at nothing, and as he did so, Dean dared to hope he would get away with it.

That was until he was hit with full on bitch face and Sam clambered onto the bed and started beating Dean's chest in frustration. Dean winced with the impacts, but he did note his brother wasn't hitting the wounds Jacob had made on him.

"You asshole! Have you got a death wish? Why didn't you call him?" Sam yelled angrily, and sensing the brief reprieve from his brother's irritation Dean made his move.

"Well...we were talking again, getting on. And I didn't want to piss on that by calling someone I know you don't like or trust here even if it was to protect me." He explained and Sam looked at him in frustration, most likely questioning whether or not to kill his brother.

"You're an idiot. Are you that determined to die again? I thought we'd sorted that last year. Or did I make you relapse?" he asked sadly, undoing Dean's bonds, allowing Dean to sit up and he had to suppress a noise of ecstasy as blood rushed back into his hands.

He then laid his hand gently on the back of his brother's neck, directing Sam to look at him, noticing but not mentioning the growing sheen of tears in his brother's eyes.

"Of course not Sammy. I'm not determined to die, I don't have a death wish. And while it was to do with you, it wasn't why I didn't call Benny. I just didn't want us to fall out again." He said softly, and drew his little brother into a fond hug.

Sam eagerly returned it, and they sat there for a while, Dean absently stroking Sam's hair before he pried himself loose from his brother, grinning cockily.

"So, the alchemist go all dominatrix on you?" he asked and Sam glowered.

"No, he wanted my sweat. Why am I the one who always gets stripped down by murderous psychos?" he moaned and Dean laughed at the pout on his face.

"So, he's dead then?" he asked hopefully, and Sam nodded.

"Deader than a KFC bargain bucket. Just as crispy too. I burned all his supplies of us too, and took his contacts list, just so we can see who we might need to keep an eye on. By the way, I'm worth a hell of a lot more than you." Sam said with a grin, heading outside.

"What? How?" Dean demanded angrily as Sam returned, two vials in hand as he knelt down beside Jacob.

"I take it one turns him back into a rugrat?" Dean asked, and Sam nodded as he poured the vial down Jacob's throat.

"Yeah, this one." He said, and sat down beside his brother, who was overjoyed that he was beginning to feel a tingling in his toes, joined him on the edge of the bed, looking at Jacob as he slowly started to shrink.

"Good. You did well Sammy, I'm proud of you, you took them both out, all by yourself. And even more impressive, you went all Luke Skywalker on the kid and it seemed to work. Why didn't it?" he asked curiously and Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but I'm going to go with unexpected teenage hormones. He was standing down wasn't he?" he asked, and Dean nodded.

"Yeah. So what happened with the alchemist?" he asked, as Jacob's muscles started to become their pretransformation state.

Sam explained the story, Jacob slowly returning to normal. Dean of course was less than impressed about Sam's capture, but was indeed proud that he had managed to get out of the mess and escape in time to get back here (though he did admit if Jacob hadn't knocked him out he'd have been far too late to save his big brother). He also showed Dean the various lists he had taken, allowing Dean to examine them while he patched his brother up as Jacob's transformation back into a nine year old kid was completed.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean asked as his brother picked up a light blue potion of some sort, after he finished tightening the bonds that held Jacob in place.

"Yeah?" he asked absently, looking with distaste down at Jacob and the vial in his hand.

"Did you mean all the stuff you said to him? About revenge, and dad and I?" he asked curiously and Sam shrugged.

"It got him to listen didn't it?" he asked, but Dean wasn't letting it go that easily.

"Sam..." he said warningly, and Sam sighed.

"Alright. Yeah, I meant some of it. I mean, all these years later, I do get why dad did what he did, but that doesn't change the fact that he was a pretty crappy dad. We needed a dad. I needed a dad. I mean you were great, but you were my big brother and you basically had to raise me, he didn't. And I know I rehashed his reasons for wanting me dead, but the fact still remains Dean, his last act on earth was to tell you to kill me. And considering his entire life since mom died was spent trying to get revenge on old yellow eyes, I still don't think it was entirely him not wanting me to become a monster that made him get you to kill me." Sam said softly, not looking at Dean.

Dean was about to protest this, but then he stopped. Sam was right. It most likely wasn't only fatherly concern that drove him to that decision, much though he was loathe to admit it. And their father had done that, his last act was to tell Dean, who had never understood that because he followed orders and was basically a good little clone soldier, was the favourite, at least in John's eyes (if only because most of the time Dean didn't answer back and did as he was told), his last act was to tell Dean to murder the kid he had basically raised since he was the size of a loaf of bread, the centre of his entire universe. And their father had left them flailing in the dark, keeping everything to himself. Years later, both boys had come to accept their father, partly because they knew it was no good lamenting him now, partly because they knew they had each other, but that didn't mean that they didn't know that their father was an ass ninety percent of the time.

And privately, when he really went navel gazing, Dean thought it was more than that because after all his stubborn and revenge driven father had basically driven Sam away from him. True, Sam didn't help but their father had been the one to tip things over the edge. And besides, the bastard had still told him to kill his baby brother.

"Suppose." Was all he said, watching his brother curiously as he uncorked the vial.

"It's a memory potion." Sam said, answering his brother's unspoken question.

"What?" Dean asked, and Sam shrugged.

"Missouri and I were discussing ways to suppress memories last year, you know, after Lilith made you kill me and you lost your marbles. We figured if we could slip you a memory suppression potion, you wouldn't get so hung up on it. We dealt with it different in the end, but I remember the recipe. And I know I didn't approve of what you had Cas do to Ben and Lisa," he explained, ignoring his brother's slight intake of breath, "and you can moan at me for being a hypocrite later. We can't kill him and we can't trust him to go off and leave us alone, so this is the only way."

Dean looked in quiet shock at his little brother. He would never have expected Sam to do something like this, to willingly fiddle with someone's mind. But he supposed, it was the best of their limited options.

"How does it work?" he asked curiously.

"It targets whatever makes painful memories more prominent and basically calms them down, at least that's how Missouri explained it. He'll still remember his mom being killed, but he won't remember the specifics, and hopefully, it'll suppress the pain he felt about her being murdered, which means you'll be safe." Sam explained, pouring the potion into the boy's mouth.

"Are you sure? Seems like a stretch to me." He asked, and Sam shrugged.

"Missouri reckoned it would work, and Meg and Aimo did too, so if they all reckon it works, I'll take it." He said, and Dean grinned despite himself.

"You're believing the word of a baby angel, a demon who half the time wants us dead and a crazy blind psychic that this will work?" he asked pointedly, and Sam glared at him, though it didn't offset the slight smile on his face.

"The murderous demon wasn't trying to kill us at the time, and Aimo was a nerdy baby angel. And besides, Missouri's usually right about all sorts of stuff. Hey, she isn't blind." He said, and Dean grinned.

"Well something's clearly wrong with her, she prefers you to me." He said cockily and Sam rolled his eyes as he sat back beside his brother as they looked down at Jacob.

"What will we do with him then, in your master plan? Provided the memory potion works and curbs his murderous urges?" Dean asked and Sam shrugged.

"First, we make sure he doesn't want to murder you, then we drop him off with the police." He said, and Dean looked at him sceptically.

"Is that really a good idea with Mueller coming?" he asked.

"We don't have a choice Dean, and besides, we'll manage." He said and Dean grinned.

The threat was over, Mueller aside, and they were getting back to normal.

"Hey Dean?" Sam said after a while, and Dean looked at his brother curiously.

"What?"

"Well, I'm still mad at you for nearly getting yourself killed, but...thanks. For not calling Benny. Him being here probably would have made me very grumpy." He admitted and Dean grinned.

"You're welcome Sammy." He said as the two brothers sat together in companionable silence, pondering what to do with their defeated stalker.

XX

The two brothers were sitting on the hood of the Impala, and watched as the social worker they had tipped off to Jacob's presence. After he had woken up, Sam had done most of the talking, telling him that they had found him lying hurt in an alley and had taken him home to patch him up. They had fixed him up as best they could, as it had been a rough few days even on him as well. They then told him that they needed to make sure he was safe and looked after, so they were going to take him somewhere he would be safe. It was then that Dean had entered, but Jacob hadn't reacted to him any more than he already had, just acting like a scared and confused orphan just like he was. The boys had then told him that they had to go, so they dropped him off at the local school, after which they called social services to tell them that there was a young orphan who needed looking after. Jacob had shakily thanked them, and they had then lurked in wait until the social worker had come to collect him. And now, they were watching him as the social worker kindly led him inside, a hand on his shoulder as she guided him inside to start his new life with any luck.

"You reckon he'll be alright?" Dean asked, and Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but I think so. Now, they'll be able to help him and put him with people who can take care of him, help him cope with what happened to his mom." He said, and Dean snorted slightly.

"Yeah, that'll be a lucky parent, the ones who adopts a kitsune. I'm the one who did this Sammy, I screwed up his life." He said, and Sam nudged him gently with his shoulder.

"Hey, I know you're sorry for that. It's over now. Yeah Amy's dead, but he's got a chance at a new life now. The social workers will see to him. I hope. I texted Garth though, he'll keep an eye on him for us, and get other hunters to help too." He explained and Dean nodded.

"Suppose that's the best we're going to get then. So, have you got us a new case? I kind of need to take my mind off this mess." Dean asked, but Sam shook his head.

"Sorry. We need to go back to the cabin anyway and get our stuff. Then I was thinking we ought to go and talk to Jody and the others. They care about us too, and they should know we're back." He said, and Dean nodded.

"Yeah that's a point. Alright, let's go. But won't they already know we're back from Garth?" he asked and Sam grinned.

"One, they should probably hear it from us and two, it's Garth, he's probably forgotten." He said, and Dean nodded respectfully.

"Good point I suppose. Come on, let's get out of here, I've had enough of Montana anyway." He said, getting into the car, and Sam followed suit.

"What do you reckon Mueller wants with us anyway?" Sam asked as they drove off, and Dean shrugged.

"No idea Sammy. But, I reckon he knows by now we left the hospital, so he's either still coming here, or he's gone home, and either way he's going to be seriously pissed. I don't want to find out what he wants with us, and at home or here, he knows we're back and he's going to be on us again. I'd rather avoid that, so we need to get the hell out of dodge." Dean said, gunning the car back towards the cabin.

XX

The Ancilla had finally found them. He was waiting in the trees, poised to attack. He would finally fulfil his mission.

And at long last, the Winchesters would be dead.

XX

"So, head to Sioux Falls?" Dean asked, packing the last of his stuff in his bag, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Jody does care about us, and we've kind of been jerks not telling her or any of the others that we're back yet. They deserve to know." He said, and Dean rolled his eyes in amusement.

He would die before he admitted it, but sometimes he did see why the older women in their lives preferred Sam to him, despite everything, he was still quite sweet. Not that he would ever tell his brother that.

He stood up to throw an insult at Sam when he saw the trees outside the cabin move.

"Dean?" Sam asked curiously, watching as his brother gave the window an edgy look.

"I thought I saw something moving out there, but it's gone now. You nearly finished?" he asked, and hearing the small trace element of fear in his brother's voice, Sam hastened to finish packing his bag.

"Dean..."

"I'm probably just being paranoid Sammy but after being stalked and with Mueller wanting our heads, I'd rather not take any risks. We need to leave Montana, now, Mueller being here or not. You ready?" he asked, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Keys?" he asked, and then someone hammered on the door.

Both boys sighed in relief. Being fairly isolated, the cabin didn't get many visitors, but they did get a couple from time to time, insurance salesmen, lost drivers, and Jehovah's Witnesses, which usually meant for entertaining viewing if Dean was the one who opened the door to that lot.

"Bloody maniac, he freaked me out." Dean grumbled, putting his gun back in his jeans and Sam grinned as the door was knocked again.

"You sit there and get your heart rate back to normal, I'll get the door." He told him, and Dean scowled as his brother headed to open the door.

Dean was muttering under his breath as he looked out the window. Creepy bastard, sneaking about like that. He cursed, he must be going deaf, he hadn't heard his car or anything, the first sign of another's presence was when he saw the trees move outside, as if something was beneath the leaf canopy.

Wait a minute, he hadn't heard a car.

The cabin was isolated for a reason. Rufus hadn't liked visitors at the best of times, hence it's location here, so far from the roads. It also meant that theoretically he could perform hunter related duties without the possibility of interference from any locals. As such, the cabin was far from the beaten track, and Dean, who had stumbled up that path when drunk once the year before (Sam had only very reluctantly come out to get him at three in the morning when he had started to worry, and had braved the pouring rain and biting wind to come out and find his brother sitting drunkenly on the path conversing with a bemused deer that Sam insisted had sent him a look that translated meant 'save me from this drunken loon') knew that it was a very long trail to come up without the aid of a car. Insurance salesmen and other such visitors all brought their cars to the weirdly marked little cabin. So why hadn't this guy?

Dean looked outside, desperate for any sign, but saw nothing that signified anything troublesome. And that's what was bothering him.

"Sammy!" Dean called just as Sam opened the door.

Sam's breath caught in his throat as he saw the man standing in the doorway. The man was taller than he was, but only slightly. However he was definitely better built, the man was like a tank, his strong muscles bulging beneath his black cloak. A thick silver belt was around his trunk like waist, and he was wearing high, durable and steel capped boots. His hands were the size of plates, rough, callused and strong. He then threw back his hood, and Sam recoiled in fright. He was completely bald, but that wasn't what alarmed him. He had no eyes.

Instead, it was as if someone had stabbed him in both eyes and then cut a bloody scar from the hole, making it the centre of an upside down and curved y shape. His eyes were only bloody scars, forever sealed shut by the horrific injury placed upon them, and for some reason Sam was suddenly very scared.

The man then pulled from his back a metal pole the length of a crowbar from his belt, and flicked it, making it extend into a long staff. He then gave Sam a cold grin that chilled him right to the bone.

"De-" he began before the staff was slammed into his chest, sending him flying through the air, where he slammed hard into the wall.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled in alarm, rushing to his fallen brother, and then he too went pale as he beheld their attacker.

"Whoa..." he said in shock as the man advanced, twirling his staff dangerously.

Dean wasted no time, and opened fire with his gun, aiming right for his chest, and he grinned triumphantly as every bullet hit. And then, all the remaining blood drained from his face as the man just looked at him with his sightless eyes and attacked.

Dean grunted as the staff was crashed into his chin, sending him crashing through the table. The man was on him in an instant, kicking Dean in the side before grabbing his hair and slamming his head down into the floor. Dean cried out in pain as the man then hoisted Dean into the air and threw him, spiralling across the room. Dean slammed hard into the tv, sparks burning him and a slight shock running through him, the shattered bits of screen slicing him up as he stirred in the wreckage.

Sam had recovered and had gotten back to his feet, and had tackled the man. The man gave him a cold grin, then crashed his staff right into Sam's chest. Sam wheezed as he was knocked backwards, the staff slamming him in the head and knocking him headfirst into the sink. Their attacker then yanked Sam back by the hair and plunged Sam's head into the sink full of water, drowning him. Sam struggled, his arms flailing, his legs kicking at his attacker as he tried to dig his nails into the man's hand, but the man was unmoved, far too strong for Sam.

A weak Dean then tackled the man, making him let go of Sam and Sam emerged from the water, gasping for air desperately. Dean however had staggered backwards, the man a solid mountain, and now he was angry. He struck like a snake, his staff whacking Dean in the head, chest, stomach and arms within five seconds before the staff took Dean's feet out from under him, and their attacker slammed the staff down on Dean's stomach, making him cry out in pain as he did so. Sam then leapt on the man, pulling him away from Dean, but the man simply seized Sam's right arm and yanked, hard.

Sam screamed as his arm was dislocated and he was then picked from his attacker's back and slammed hard into the ground, knocking the wind from him. Dean seized Sam's gun and opened fire too, but once again, it was of no use, though he largely missed his target his arm was shaking so badly. Sam kicked out, gasping in pain as it hurt him more than their opponent and the man kicked Sam in the chin to teach him a lesson. Dean shot the last bullets at the man's leg, but it didn't work, only succeeding in making him angrier. The man hoisted Dean up by the neck, making Dean's legs kick helplessly in the air before their foe started hammering Dean's face with his fists. Bloodied and bruised, Dean yelled in protest as he was thrown viciously to the floor, and then basically slung across the floor, cracking his head on the edge of the sofa.

Sam then stabbed upwards with the broken table leg, also only infuriating their attacker. He crushed Sam's wrist, making Sam yell in pain as the bones broke. He was then picked up and had his head smashed through the window, Sam crying in pain as the shards of glass embedded in his face. He was then lobbed across the room, crashing through one of the through walls which left him stirring feebly in a cascade of damaged wood.

Dean was struggling to his bag, and finally seized Ruby's dagger from it. The man bent down and pummelled Dean's stomach with his fist in retaliation, but Dean then slashed upward with the blade. It didn't do anything other than leave a minute scratch on the man's chest. He gave a cold, chilling laugh before he threw Dean up into the ceiling. Dean cried out in pain as he slammed there, crying even more as he slammed back down. Sam had moved from the rubble and threw a brick at the man weakly, but weakened as he was, it did nothing.

The man turned and fixed his sightless eyes on Sam. Kicking Dean in the head once again, he hoisted Dean up and slammed his head into the kitchen bunker before crashing it off the edge of the oven. Dean howled in pain as he did so, and then with a vicious snarl, the man drove his hand into a drawer and slammed it shut, making Dean scream as the bones shattered. He then bodily threw Dean into the wall beside the door and their bags. Dean, barely conscious, gave a groan and slid down the wall, blood smearing it from the various wounds he now had. The man then threw his staff, impaling it in Dean's shoulder, but overcome with pain all Dean did was hiss slightly as he fought to remain conscious.

The man then advanced on a weakly recovering Sam, and a boot then cracked several of Sam's ribs which made him yell in pain. The man then hoisted Sam up by his wet hair, crashing his head through more remains of the damaged wall. Sam was coughing weakly and his hands were feebly trying to face him off, but it was no use. The man then hoisted him into the air, hand tight around Sam's throat and he began to choke, weakly struggling to free himself. The man smiled sadistically as Sam struggled, gasping for air, eyes rolling as his legs kicked feebly and his hands pawed at the big man. The man then slammed Sam into the wall, eliciting a strangled, pained gurgle from Sam before he too was punched several times in the gut and face. Sam and Dean were about to die, that much was clear.

Sam was choking, his life leaving him, he was about to die, his eyes were rolling, his breaths coming in fewer and fewer desperate breaths...

"Sam-" Dean cried and with his remaining strength he threw the archangel sword from the year before to his brother.

And, as if by some miracle, it went the entire way and landed deftly in Sam's hand. Sam gave a final chocked gasp and with all his remaining strength, he slashed the blade towards their attacker's neck.

And to his great surprise the head came flying off, showering Sam in his geysering blood. However, he had cut his head off mid action, and now Sam, thrown by reflex and momentum, flew through the air and crashed into the wall, his head slamming through one of the remaining windows. The body then collapsed, flooding the floor with his red blood as Sam's prone form collapsed back into the cabin, right beside his fading brother, who was struggling to breathe.

"Sammy..." he whispered frantically, fighting to keep his eyes open before he passed out.

They had both been flattened, and both weren't far from death that much was obvious. They'd never been beaten like that before, by anyone. Who the hell was that guy?

A coughing fit felt like it nearly killed Dean, and he spat up a lump of blood and a few teeth as he sagged further down the wall. Sam was barely breathing, his face pale and his body broken, just like his own.

They needed help, they needed to escape, but the hospital, Muller, what...

And the answer struck him as he looked at a floorboard. Tears filling his eyes due to the pain, his broken hand laid on his brother's wet and bloodied forehead, with a last burst of effort, the hardwired command 'protect Sammy' kicking in, with a final push Dean made the call, his voice slurred and weak. And then, his energy spent, the phone fell from his hand and his body keeled over, his head lying on Sam's stomach as both brothers fought for their lives while the decapitated corpse spewed out more blood.

XX

Jody had been in her garden, planting new flowers when the phone rang.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Jody..." Dean's ragged and pained voice rasped and Jody's eyes widened in shock.

"Dean, where are you, where have you been, we've been worried sick, we've not heard from you or Sam in a year..." she prattled, but then she heard Dean give a painful sounding cough.

"Help. Rufus' cabin. Attacked. Dying. Human. Sam, help!" he pleaded and the line went dead with a weak groan.

Jody got to her feet in shock. Whatever the hell had happened, it wasn't good. No phone call like that could be good. So, abandoning all pretence, she picked up her gun from inside the house, slammed the door to lock it and headed for her police car. Time was of the essence.

She had Winchesters to save.

**And that is the end of the first story of the arc!**

**The alchemist is dead, Jacob is neutralised but as we've just seen the boys problems are far from over. Mueller wants them for his own ends, there are sinister schemes afoot in the shadows on top of that.**

**But worse than that, the boys are now the target of a new group of villains, the Perpurigo, and the Ancilla just flattened them! As Sam and Dean barely cling to life, will Jody get there in time to save them? And speaking of saving, was Dean's throw impressive or what? Just saying.**

**So, we've finished the first story, its been good to be back writing the boys again, I have missed writing them, and we've only just begun. I'll start the second story tomorrow, heres a hint: Season Five. Anyway, hope you enjoyed my return, I did enjoy writing it, and you can help me celebrate not having work tomorrow by leaving me lots and lots of reviews!**

**Until next time then, and the start of a new story, please read and review review review!**


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